#and there's azem right in front of him never quite seeing him

[azems-familiar]

he's tired.

[tea-and-conspiracy]

Prompt 24: Vicissitudes

One minute it had been like a deer, almost; then Azem blinked and found it to be somewhere between a giraffe and an alligator. In the span of another breath it was too warped to properly follow with the eye, afterwards becoming a collage of mammalian faces -- then it almost took the shape of a cart. The longer she watched it, the more she found herself hypnotized.

“...Are you quite sure we cannot keep it?” Hythlodaeus gently protested, leaning out dangerously far as the three of them peered around the knoll. “It’s gone past the point of being broken to simply being fascinating.”

“Absolutely not.” Emet-Selch bristled. “This is an utterly flagrant disregard for even the most basic conceptual safety protocols. It’s irresponsible is what it is! I’ve never seen a more unstable creation in my life.”

“What was it, I wonder?” Azem breathed. “Or...what was it supposed to be?”

“Not even the locals are sure,” Hythlodaeus replied. “Which is, admittedly, the lion’s share of why I called you both here.”

Emet-Selch frowned. “It tore both its creators and their lab to shreds. Not even a concept crystal remains.”

“To shreds, you say?” Hythlodaeus asked.

The two devolved into their usual ribbing-and-bickering. Azem simply sighed, feeling her heart tighten as she continued to watch the creature. As grotesque as it was, it wasn’t so far gone that it didn’t still have some lingering sense of dignity – a distant echo of what it once might have been. That was worst of all, because all she could see was a sad suggestion of something that had been noble, perhaps even beautiful. Only...it had fallen.

Was it in pain? Was it suffering? She couldn’t even tell. It didn’t move right, and worse still -- it made no sound whatsoever.

“Seph.” She jumped as she felt Emet-Selch’s lips at her ear. As she turned, however, he gestured for her to be quiet. She could see his golden gaze affixed far beyond her – far beyond the world. A glance beyond him proved Hythlodaeus’ eyes equally out of focus.

“What do you two see?” she whispered.

“A...horrifying loss of aether,” Hythlodaeus replied at last.

“It appears to be draining the ambient environment in an effort to maintain its form. Any form.” Emet-Selch squinted, then blinked himself back to physical reality. “Look: from here you can already see the grass starting to brown.”

Azem leaned out again. It wasn’t something she was used to looking for, but he was right: the restless blades immediately surrounding the beast were yellowing, the flowers within them withered. A nearby tree had begun shedding its leaves, pouring them into the river.

It was with that sight that the Traveller stood. With a twitch of the fingers her fiery blade found her hand, and her shield hung upon her arm.

“I take it you want me out in front.” She turned with a knowing grin.

Emet-Selch secreted her a lopsided smirk. With a flourish, he reached up to snap his staff into his hand. “Only because magic is so much less work for me, my dear.”

“And, if we’re being honest...” Hythlodaeus winked as he reached for his bow, “We are rather fond of the view from behind you.”

“Is that any way to speak to a member of the Convocation?” Azem grinned.

And then, without warning, she spun about and charged off.

She made it halfway to the beast before a tentacle – or was it a neck??? -- caught her square in the chest and sent her straight through the tree. Emet-Selch caught her just in time before she hit the water, turning it to snow beneath her for a softer landing; the beast whirled on him in a blossom of teeth and mouths, only recoiling slightly as he palmed an explosion into its faces. It scattered then, rolling out of reality entirely; creature was somehow everywhere at once, changing shape so rapidly that neither of them could even look at it.

“Hythlodaeus!” Azem cried.

“It’s...it’s here! The core is here!” He called, running after it.

“No good,” Emet-Selch said through grit teeth. “I suspect only he can see it properly anymore. We have to stabilize it somehow.”

Azem took a few ineffectual swipes as the creature billowed around her; her blade passed through it like wet paper.

“Forget this,” she said. She shrugged her weapons into the grass and bolted after Hythlodaeus.

“Wait! Seph!” Emet-Selch was at her side in a blink. “What are you doing?” “We’re alone, right?”

“Yes?” “Then there won’t be any shame in it.”

He squinted at her. She kept her eyes on the beast as it vortexed together, briefly took a saurine form, and descended upon Hythlodaeus.

“We’re wasting time using conventional methods when it doesn’t obey reality to begin with.”

He stopped. She stopped with him, extending a hand with a smile as the wind caught her hair and blew it like a curtain of fire.

“You know what we have to do, Hades.”

“A little help would truly be fantastic!” Hythlodaeus called. “No really, don’t rush yourselves!”

“You know how I feel about this,” Emet-Selch replied at last. But his eyes were soft as he slid his hand into her own. “Not that you aren’t resplendent.”

“A pale imitation of Venat as usual, I’m afraid.” She laughed, pulling him close as hot aether began to swirl around her. “Don’t tell her I cheated again.”

He leaned his forehead to hers. “Never, my dear.”

And in that instant, his robes billowed out around him. He bloomed into the embodiment of night, a tower of bristling scales crowned in iron and bound by the crimson thread of a spider lily.

And Azem took a breath.

And she became the sun.

[redmoonwanderer]

FFXIV Write, Day 21 Prompt: Solution

Let it never be said that Azem is stupid. Far from it, in fact: while he might not be the first to go for the books, he’s seen many a page. He’s wise also, what with all the traveling he’s done in his life, all the wisdom he’s gathered across the star while listening and living.

But sometimes, even the wisest, oldest, and the most intelligent, run into problems whose solutions simply escape them. It can be a particularly stubborn lid of a jar, a word that refuses to leave the tip of one’s tongue, or simply being stuck somewhere one would rather not be stuck in.

Azem’s problem is of a more simple kind. Arriving home after a weeks-long journey into a literal storm, he is exhausted. His eyes are barely open, his steps draggin. Some who see him look amused, joking he might be just about ready to give up his seat in the Convocation, but still knowing better. Azem could come back beaten, clothes torn, and mask askew, and he would still jump at an opportunity at a journey the next day if asked -- or even the same evening, if he was feeling particularly restless.

Today is not one of those days, however. He feels relief getting through his door and closing it behind him, leaving the noise and the light where he preferred it -- outside.

He conciders making tea, but when he looks at a chair and feels the temptation of rest calling to him to sleep over the table, he forgoes that idea.

Bed it is.

The moth disagrees.

Generally, he has nothing against moths. They can be beautiful to behold, and they have their uses.

This one, however, was a loud one. Banging its wings against anything and everything, falling quiet only to begin the rucus again just as he’s about fall asleep.

He throws a pillow in its general direction. He misses, of course.

He hopes the laughter from the moth’s direction is just the result of his tired brain.

When he starts from his near-sleep again because it headbutts a window, he feels his usually generous patience wearing thin.

While summoning a friend over to deal with this would’ve been perhaps a little too much, he decides a lighter version will have to do. Simple telepathic bond: he first thinks of Hades, but he gets a feeling he would encourage him to come up with his own solution, so he connects with Hythlodaeus, instead.

‘I hope I’m not bothering,’ Azem starts. ‘But I have a problem.’

There is a tinge of worry in the reply, ‘What is it?’

He explains his situation, then waits in silence. If he didn’t know better, he would say he felt amusement through the connection.

‘What is the moth doing right now?’ Hythlodaeus asks.

Azem listens. ‘It just tried to break the window again.’

‘...’

‘You would give me a look if you were here now, would you not?’ Azem says.

‘My dear friend, I pity you, so I will offer my helping had despite being busy with my own work,’ Hythlodaus says with laughter in his voice.

‘Please. I want to sleep,’ Azem says. Nearly begs, but not quite.

‘If I understand your new friend at all, I think it’s trying to tell you to open the window so it can get out.’

Azem only replies with silence, staring at the stubborn moth.

He opens the window, and watches the noisemaker fly out. He slams it close before it can change its mind.

‘Thank you.’

‘Go to sleep, Azem. You sound tired enough that I fear I migh fall asleep if we talk any longer.’

Hythlodaeus doesn’t get a reply, and he knows Azem’s out like a light.

He stares at the papers stacked in front of him.

At least some problems were simple.

[potassium-pilot]

Prompt 20: Petrichor

I’m in over my head, he thought, I know nothing of the Convocation other than what I learned in school; my creations seem so minimal compared to the Emet-Selch; they’re all taller than I am- I know height has nothing to do with it, but it’s still intimidating. Am I truly worthy of the seat of Elidibus? Am I really the Emissary?

“Do you smell that, young Elidibus?”

He turned his head behind him and noticed a woman. One of the members of the Convocation he met, but which one?

“Y-you’re…the Azem, is that correct?”

“I am, just like you are the brand new Elidibus. Now, do you smell that?”

Elidibus stared down at his lunch that he chose to eat outside on the steps at the back of the Bureau. “Oh…if the scent of my lunch offends, I apologize…”

“Your lunch neither offends my senses, nor is it what I’m referring to, Elidibus. We’ve had a dry period for some time, have we not?”

The weather was far from his mind, but he answered, “Yes, I…think so. Why?” Azem sat down next to the young one and replied with yet another question, “Have you ever noticed that scent that comes before rain after it hasn’t rained for so long?”

Why is she asking me this, he thought. Is this a test? “Uh…no, not really.”

“Hm. You should, young one. One of the gods put in quite a bit of work into making the rain as pleasant as possible. It adds a spice to life to notice the small things.”

He gathered a strange first impression of the Azem, but decided to take a whiff of the air, try to gather what she means. To his surprise, there was indeed a difference. “It’s…sort of earthy…”

“You’re right. It’s a pleasant smell to me, although some have their preferences.”

Elidibus took a moment and asked, “Is this some advice for how to deal with the Convocation?” Azem chuckled with her mouth closed, then responded, “No, friend, I’m just making conversation. You seemed so nervous in there.” Never had he felt more grateful for his red mask as he blushed at the thought that someone would notice such a thing. “The first day is odd, isn’t it?” she asked him.

“I don’t know about odd…but I must admit, I feel a bit…” he didn’t want to finish, but the phrase he was avoiding was ‘out of place”.

“Wanna know a secret about the Emet-Selch?”

That piqued his curiosity. “Uh…will that be all right?”

“Sure, so long as you keep it between the three of us.” Elidibus nodded at the agreement. He watched a wry smile form on the Convocation member’s face. “He’s a sucker for strawberry candy, and he bugs me to bring some home every time I leave Amaurot on my missions.”

His eyes widened at the thought. “Really?” She nodded. “He’ll deny it, but he’s obsessed with it.” Elidibus made a thoughtful hum. “Now what do you like?”

“Me?” he pointed to himself.

“Is there someone else here?”

“N-no…I…” he felt confused as to why she would care, making him hesitate. “I…I like that one concept, that card game…”

“Ah, you’re a gambling man. I see… you and I will need to play one night. I’ll show you some of the cheap tactics I picked up on my travels. You can help me clean out my friend, Hythlodaeus.”

The young man smiled. “What of you, Azem?” She smiled back. “I love to dance. When the Emet-Selch, Hythlodaeus and I go to the park, Hythlodaeus always takes me to see the musicians nearby, and I drag him into dancing when the Emet-Selch inevitably runs to avoid it. There’s another secret for you to keep.” Elidibus chuckled slightly.

“Ah, finally, a laugh.”

“S-sorry…”

“Nothing to be sorry for; I just like knowing that you’re capable of letting loose for a bit.”

He nodded. There was a moment of silence before he asked her, “Azem, is there anything I should know about the Convocation?”

“That we’re all flying by the seat of our pants.”

He stammered at that remark. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“My young friend, confidence is key to being a member of the Convocation. Quite frankly, there’s something new everyday, and it’s impossible to create a real standard for how we handle things. We have our protocol, but as much as they complain about me skirting it, they have also conveniently avoided protocol themselves.”

“But-but we’re supposed to lead our people, keep our society thriving…”

“If that’s how you keep looking at it, you’ll be that nervous every single day for the rest of your tenure.”

He blinked.

“Yes, we’re leaders, and we do, in fact, lead, but there’s no trick to being a Convocation member. There is simply being one. Bring ideas to the floor, engage in debate, do your reports and other paperwork, and go home. You’ll feel much more fulfilled at the end of the day if you remove the unnecessary pressure.”

He contemplated her words.

“The next time we go to the floor, I have an idea about revamping the concept submission process, make it more streamlined for easier processing. Could I…ask for your support, Azem?”

She pretended to ponder, then told him, “Tell you what; I’ll support it…if you can beat me at a game of cards.”

“What?!” he exclaimed in disbelief.

“Those are my terms. Do you accept them?”

“Is that…that can’t be protocol!”

“It’s not, but I should tell you how the Lahabrea got me to support his idea to reconstruct the Akadaemia Anyder.”

BOOM

The thunderclap roared over the Bureau of the Architect, and the rain slowly followed suit.

“Seems like a good time to play in my office, don’t you think?”

He still felt befuddled by the idea that any one of the Convocation of Fourteen should be anything close to him. That they were anything like him felt foreign. They’re leaders of Amaurot, creation masters; how could they be as clueless as the Azem claims them to be?

“Or would you prefer to sit alone in the rain? Because I will be returning inside to listen and watch it from the comfort of my dry and warm office with my meal. I would be pleased for the company, but I will leave that decision to you, young Elidibus.”

She stood up and as she said she would, she turned around and walked inside the Bureau. Elidibus sat there for a moment, realizing just how little he liked to get wet, but still wasn’t sure what to think. Finally, he rose from the stairs himself, and opened the door to return inside himself.

He walked down the halls to locate her office, passing each door, trying to see if there were any that he could peek through, but many were closed. Lahabrea…Igeyorhm…Nabriales…Emet-Selch… and last, but not least, Azem, the only open door. Before young Elidibus could enter, he heard a voice behind him.

“Ah, good afternoon, Elidibus. Were you hoping to speak with me?”

Emet-Selch approached him from behind. Elidibus turned to meet his gaze, despite being hidden behind a white mask, and answered, “Oh, no sir. I was hoping to speak with Azem. She invited me to lunch in her office.”

“Did she now?” he asked with a hint of curiosity in his voice. He took his shoulder and told him, “Come.” The two entered her office together, the Emet-Selch clearing his throat to get her attention. It worked, but she didn’t pry her gaze from the window.

“Hades, use your words”, she teased.

“Helios, are you corrupting this young man?”

That got her attention enough to turn around. Indeed, the young Elidibus stood at his side, a shoulder in the Emet-Selch’s right hand. “He informed me you asked him to lunch with you in here.”

“Oh, Hades, there’s nothing to corrupt. He’s quite stalwart for someone so young.”

“What has she told you, young man?” Before he could answer, she piped in with a teasing, “Nothing of import. Certainly not about how you beg me for strawberry candy when I leave the city.” Hades gasped and stumbled his words, “I-you-guh-I most certainly do not!”

“Uh-huh” she taunted, “Nor how you try to bring home near every stray cat you meet.”

“I would never bring such a pest into our home!”

“Right, now what will you tell Locus when we get home? She’ll be just the saddest cat we’ve ever had.”

He growled, shot his gaze to Elidibus and told him, “Everything she tells you is an absolute lie.”

“Only when it’s convenient for me to be telling the truth will he say I’m telling it, or so I’ve noticed.”

“Helios, you’re impossible!”

“I love you too. Now you better not have eaten lunch without me. I’ll excuse dear Elidibus here, but you?”

“I would never. Come, Elidibus, take a seat.” The young man nodded and took one of two seats in front of Azem’s desk.

“Um, Azem, when did you want to play that card game?” Elidibus asked meekly.

“Ah!” She pulled out a deck of cards and answered, “I’d like to finish my meal, then we can get started.”

“You’re not teaching him that ridiculous card game.”

Helios shook her head at her beloved, “I don’t have to. Why, he told me himself he loves card games.”

“Do you?” Emet-Selch asked the new member incredulously. “Uh, yes, sir, I do.” Realizing how this could be taken, he blurted out, “I-I don’t usually play it when I’m working, but-but I was asked to play with her for a work reason.”

“Oh dear…” Emet-Selch rubbed his temples and asked, “I think I know what she’s doing. All right, young one, what did you want to bring to the floor?”

Something within him sparked. That such a powerful creator could possibly listen to someone like him made him feel so honored. “Well, sir, if I may, there’s been many complaints about the process for submitting a concept, and I had an idea for how to streamline it, make it easier for employees to process submissions, and if you’ll hear me out, I think we can make it work”, Elidibus rambled excitedly.

“Hm”, Emet-Selch thoughtfully hummed, “You are correct that many do have trouble with their concepts being input. Long wait lines, a filing system that needs updating…not a bad idea.” He turned his head towards Azem and asked, “But why are you making him play cards for this?”

“I need to see him play now that he’s told me he likes this game. Besides, he may have your support, but I still have my terms.”

“Such are the dealings of our Azem; you truly wish her to be your role model, young man?”

“Role model? I’m simply his coworker.”

“Well, I’m glad you would deny the mantle. It might be better for someone who actually performs his duties to teach him the ropes.”

“Ha! I do my job well, thank you. It’s just not pencil-pushing.”

Emet-Selch shook his head. “Whatever will we do with you?”

“The better one is ‘what will you do without me?’”

“Work, probably.”

She scoffed at him, and told Elidibus, “I’m ready for that game now.”

“Deal me in as well.”

“My stars, Hades- you would play cards at work?”

“We’re not exactly working now, are we?”

A smile formed on her lips as she shuffled the deck. “Not quite. Don’t worry about him, Elidibus, it’s just me you’ll need to beat, not that it’s hard to beat our Emet-Selch at cards.”

“Hmph, slander, my love.”

The three played a good round. Azem gave him a run for his money, but he ultimately succeeded in the end, and received her full support for his proposal. Not that it mattered; she would have supported him anyways, but she enjoyed seeing the young man go from the nervous wreck he started his day as to a more relaxed version of himself, one that realized he was among peers, and not masters.

“There, he won. Are you happy, Helios?” Hades asked annoyedly.

“Quite. Thank you for a good game, my young friend” Azem complimented.

“Now come, Elidibus; it’ll be better for us to discuss this without her influence.” Hades stood up and walked out of her office to go next door. Elidibus stood up, ready to follow him as he requested, but then stopped. Without turning around, he asked her, “Would it be all right if I came back to eat with you tomorrow?”

She grinned. “My friend, anytime I’m in Amaurot, you’re more than welcome here. I’d rather you here than outside in the rain.”

He smiled and said, “Thank you.” Elidibus walked out of her office and moved himself from her office to the Emet-Selch’s.

The day went by without much clamor, then Elidibus gathered his things and left the office for the day. As he walked outside, the humidity left from the rain slicked his skin. It felt sticky, not his favorite sensation. Then he remembered the conversation from his lunch with Azem.

He took a deep breath, and embraced the earthy scent that blessed the city of Amaurot.

[bookbornexiv]

the sea at the bottom of the sea

(wol and hythlodaeus check out azem’s apartment. warning: unedited and full of shadowbringers spoilers up to 5.5, despite which i clearly retained absolutely zero knowledge of any lore)

You heard it sitting on the docks south of Wright, a fishing rod in your hands and sea-spray salting your dangling feet and the mad cries of gulls in your hair; a story told through mouthfuls of sandwich by one dock worker to another, drifting to you like a thin thread of destiny over the pounding heartbeat of the sea in your ears and in your bones. You were thinking about fish and other such things, you had your eyes half shut to better feel the sun's warm kiss on your face. To better ignore that you should probably be actually doing or preparing for some important duty right now instead. To better forget that there was something you came here to remember.

"There's a sea at the bottom of the sea, and another sea at the bottom of that sea, and another sea at the bottom of that one. But below all of that, if you swim hard enough, you might see a city..."

You can see it now on the back of your eyelids, the shadows of spires and spirals like arms unfurling to welcome you, that city at the bottom of the sea. But you know it's not really a city, that the tale-telling dock workers are right. What looks like a city is just another sea, emptied of water and filled instead with memories so fluid, anyone could be forgiven for thinking them the real thing.

And you find yourself wondering, what's at the bottom of that?

*

You find, without much surprise, Hythlodaeus waiting in the lobby of the building when you eventually locate it. You fold your arms as you crane your neck back to gaze accusingly into his masked face. You really could have used his help three or four bells ago, at the front desk of the city council, or at any of the departments they eventually relayed you to like a ping-pong ball. At any of the points in time which you found yourself explaining over and over again, to a different face wearing a very slightly different mask, that you didn't have any identifying documents, you didn't have any legal or law enforcement credentials, but all you wanted to know and didn't see the harm in them telling you was Azem's mailing address. A PO box would have been fine. Finally, your patience wearing thin, you had to withdraw and hide in a back alley to surreptitiously make some coffee biscuits on your portable stove, craft a cute little paper box to put them in, and then - wearing your most winsome smile and the Amaurotine robes you'd kept from the first time you'd been run around doing errands here - rocked up to the concierge of the first residential building you could find, intending to say you had a cookie delivery for Azem but you'd forgotten the unit number exactly. To your crestfallen surprise, the lobby is entirely empty of staff and residents alike, and only Hythlodaeus is there, beaming at you in your cleverness.

"I didn't do anything," you say.

"Azem was always moving. When you're never in town and very charming but also very bad at arranging for bills and rent to be paid on time, you can't keep a place for long," Hythlodaeus explains. "Landlords get fed up and somehow Emet-Selch or I would end up with the eviction notice, we'd have to come around to make sure everything was safely put away in storage for the time being... Azem never even remembered how to get to any of them either. You're doing better. Very impressive."

You give him the box of biscuits. You're not sure how he's going to get any use out of them, but he looks delighted anyway, and tucks it carefully away somewhere in his robes.

"Shall we go up? You'll need me to press the lift buttons. You can't reach them."

You also end up needing his help to reach the lock on the apartment door, which you are completely unsurprised to find out he has a spare key to. For a moment, as he fumbles with the stiff lock, you find yourself backing up a little bit, holding your breath, as if that locked door were a rock over the mouth of a volcano already in the throes of an eruption. Later you'll ask yourself why you were so nervous, so anxious, what you were thinking you might see when he opened that door. For now your mind is a blank - one that, mercifully, remains so as Hythlodaeus wiggles the doorknob free and pushes the door open. "Welcome!" he says, brandishing one long arm gracefully to usher you in. "Watch your step. And your hands."

You don't take a step towards the open doorway. "Watch out for what? For cubus? Did Azem keep cubus as pets?"

"No, no, I mean it might be dusty. I don't remember if anyone arranged for weekly cleaning."

You finally let go of that long breath you had been holding. Dust you can deal with. You are the Warrior of Darkness. The Warrior of Darkness. The Warr- You clear your head, nod gratefully at Hythlodaeus and step past him, into the apartment.

It honestly is a bit of a disappointment. If you hadn't known the occupant of this unit to be a person of fairly major importance and influence on, like, an international scale, then you might have thought it pretty neat in a sterile, showroom kind of way. High ceilings and big glass windows and sleepy beige and grey accents on sleek and featureless furnishings, generic abstract paintings alongside boring black shelves on the walls, and lush plastic plants scattered about as if the designer had run out of ideas and just slapped a wall planter here or a flowerpot there to hide chipped varnish or distract from a glaringly empty spot. It isn't particularly dusty, or at least, the recreator of this physical illusion had neglected to include it, so it couldn't have been a terribly integral part of the experience. You wonder vaguely if Emet-Selch - if Hades - had been tempted to improve upon the reality of the past, even for just a little. You imagine him sneezing violently as he walked in, lifetimes ago, planets ago. The hood flying back off his head, him stomping around irritably resolving to do something about it. Does this count as doing something about it? Leaving the dust out of his recreation of a place he would have had absolutely no reason to come back to? Had he been tempted to come back to it?

"I don't know," Hythlodaeus says, as if he can read your mind. "I mean, I know what you're thinking. You're wondering if - if a memory of Azem might be here." There are more closed doors, leading out from this main room; there's a sliding door to a balcony, but you don't see anyone on the other side of that at least. "If everything was remembered into being so faithfully, so perfectly, then surely, you think, one of the most important people in this city should be here too. How could one of the Fourteen be forgotten? By another of the Fourteen, no less?" His masked face tilts to regard you in a way you want to interpret as tenderly, even though you can read absolutely nothing from its smooth, blank surface. "You're free to look. I'll just dust everything a bit and check the bathrooms. You know there's always a pipe leaking or something when you're not around to see to it."

He leaves you, disappearing into a small room which, you assume, is not hiding a snoring recreation of Azem, since he makes no startled exclamation. You think you know him well enough by now that he'd pop back out again, all excited, and wave you over to come look at Azem, if he'd found anything. If he'd found his new, old friend.. You breathe a little easier and muster up the courage to step forward, poke at a stack of books that looked like they were lifted out of the box they'd been stored in and plonked down upon a low shelf to never move again until the next time Azem forgot to settle the rent. You can't actually reach most of the stuff in here, but there's nothing that you actually feel worth taking a second look at, let alone trying to climb the bookshelves for. No portraits of loved ones, masked or unmasked, no trinkets or souvenirs one might have expected of a constant traveler, nothing that looked like a notebook or journal or even a grocery list. Nothing personal. It looks and feels like a place that had been carefully arranged to look homely and welcoming, but in reality is no one's home. You do eventually climb the coffee table and stand upon it, looking around, trying to imagine yourself about ten times taller, to no avail. No skull-splitting flash of light, no rush of memories, no sense of deja vu assaults you as the Echo had seen fit to do everywhere else. This place doesn't mean anything to you. Perhaps it never had.

You sit on the table, shoulders slumping a little, and wait for Hythlodaeus to come back. He looks at you, goes to the kitchen and re-emerges with two cups of tea, although the cup he plonks down in front of you might better serve you as a bath than a beverage. You sit on the balcony together and eat the coffee biscuits, Hythlodaeus pinching each one delicately between thumb and forefinger as one might pick up a grain of sand, and craning his neck back as he lifts it to his mouth so you never quite see the face below his mask. When you look down into the box and find it empty, Hythlodaeus says they were delicious. You remember making six biscuits and you remember eating six biscuits. But you don't mention it. It has been such a peaceful afternoon.

"Did you find what you were hoping to find here?"

You shrug.

"I suppose we can't always find what we set out to find," Hythlodaeus says. "But sometimes, you know, you find something you absolutely weren't expecting or even thinking to find. Sometimes it's something you had no idea could even exist. That's what Azem always said traveling was like, you know? It can happen even at home, but I suppose when you're on the way to somewhere else every day, it happens all the time."

You point out that that unknown 'something' could be something as bad as it could be nice. But, you concede, it's probably better to be prepared for it to be bad, while hoping for it to be nice. Otherwise, you can't imagine that anyone would ever want to leave one place for another.

"That is something Azem would say," Hythlodaeus says with great satisfaction. "You know, I think we never quite managed to meet up here and have a chat like this. It's nice to be able to sit here and talk nonsense together at last."

You look at him, wondering if a crack might have appeared on his mask somewhere, if something in this city is programmed, triggered, coded to unravel the minute someone finally acknowledges who you are and who you were in the same breath - the new old you, the old new you. You can't say in words what exactly you're expecting. Perhaps you'll hear your true name, Azem's true name, perhaps even spoken in Emet-Selch's voice rumbling from the speakers in the walls, from the waves high above the city's spires. Perhaps you want the city to crack and crumble and fall to pieces around you, only to reveal the true city at the bottom of this remembered city, the city at the bottom of the bottom of the bottom of the sea. Perhaps all you want, every time you return here, is to truly be home.

"I'll finish your tea, if you're not going to drink it."

Hythlodaeus puts the cups away when he's done, wipes the crumbs from the empty box and deposits it gently in a massive bin. You make a mental note to come back and check on it later. Can a remembered garbage disposal or recycling system actually dispose of very real cardboard, made from real pulp from real branches you cut yourself, a world away - fourteen worlds away? - in the quiet forests of the North Shroud?

"Did you know Azem wasn't going to be here?" you ask him, later, when you've taken the lift back down to the building's lobby. He is poised to see you off, standing at the exact spot he was waiting to welcome you in, long limbs arranged in exactly the same position. You wonder how much longer this simulation of Amaurot, sundered from its creator, will stand, can pretend to function, pretend to live. Is it beginning to loop things to conserve resources? Is that even close to a guess at how this place works?

"I wasn't sure," Hythlodaeus replies. "We didn't open any of the other doors, after all. And Emet-Selch complained about Azem being absent almost as equally as he complained about Azem... Perhaps he felt it was more true to memory not to recreate Azem in Amaurot. Perhaps he was stubborn enough that he didn't care and did it anyway... In the old days I'd have offered to bet on the outcome. But these aren't the old days any more and anyway, you're here."

"I am," you agree. "But I gotta go."

He lifts a hand to wave you goodbye. For a moment your heart leaps to your teeth, but it's not the same way you remember Emet-Selch waving at all. But it's also, excruciatingly, bone-meltingly painful and endearing and wonderful all at once. You don't want to stop looking at him, and you don't want to leave. And yet, and yet, and yet, you find your feet turning and then you're facing the doors, walking out into the emerald light of the sea-sky over Emet-Selch's Amaurot.

*

It turns out there really is a city at the bottom of the sea at the bottom of the sea, but it's not your city any more.

[sparrowwritings]

Final Fantasy Writing Challenge Day Seventeen: Ladybugs

Day Sixteen -- Masterpost -- Day Eighteen

Having people barging into his office was so expected that Hythlodaeus hadn’t needed to keep his door shut in years. Having one of his best friends barge in on him while he was working was also completely within average parameters. He’d even made a habit of keeping snacks in case someone came hungry.

What wasn’t normal was Artemis barging into his office holding a preview of a concept that had been on display on one of the lower floors of the Bureau of the Architect. She shoved it in his face as she leaned across his desk. “I searched everywhere I could for name of whoever originated this and I can’t find it. You’re the Chief so you either already know or you can find out.” There was an urgency to her voice that was very unlike her.

Before Hythlodaeus could respond, Apollo also stumbled into the office. He was short of breath, as if he’d been chasing after his twin. Which he probably had done, all things considered. “Can’t just...run off...without...words…” He said when he could manage to speak.

“I need. To know. The name.” Artemis hadn’t turned from staring down Hythlodaeus. He couldn’t see her eyes, but he didn’t have to. He knew her well enough to know that she hadn’t even blinked. 

Taking this very rare moment of seriousness for what it was, he gently took the preview of the concept from her hand and examined it. Inside was a model of an insect. A beetle, from the look of it--an exoskeleton that had wing casings that split in half to allow the diaphanous limbs to spread for flight; short stubby antenna to sense the world around it; twin pincers next to its mouth; six legs that ended in fine, almost unnoticeable hairs to allow for climbing surfaces. Unlike most beetles that Hythlodaeus had examined, this one’s coloring was primarily red with black spots dotting its shell in a random pattern. When he queried the preview, a name came up immediately: ladybug.

The contributor was marked as Anonymous. His clearance let him find out why.

“Well?” Artemis demanded. 

“Well it’s no wonder you couldn’t discover the name.” He said while handing it back to her. “Whoever it was didn’t want to be known to the public.”

“WHAT?!” 

“Not everyone likes to be in the public eye, sis.” Apollo shook his head. “I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, considering who we are and who we know.” He made a significant look in Hythlodaeus’ direction. “No offense.”

“None taken, unless you wish for me to play the part of Emet-Selch for a moment.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Hythlodaeus cleared his throat. “How dare you, Apollo. I resemble that remark.” 

Apollo responded with a thumbs up. “I don’t know how you do it, but you sound more and more like him every time you try.”

Artemis slammed her hands on the desk. “Can we focus, you two?”

The men both paused, then looked to each other before turning their faces to her. Clearing his throat again, Hythlodaeus spoke first. “Alright, I’ll ask since no one’s said anything about it yet: What’s going on, Artemis? You’re acting...well, more like Hades than usual.” Apollo worried at his lip while nodding in agreement.

Her jaw was tight while her head turned away. It was Apollo’s turn to be Azem, so her white mask showed a little more of her dour expression. “I just...want to know who made the ladybug concept. It seems…” She hesitated. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she tried and failed to come up with something to answer him with. Finally Artemis settled on, “I want to see what sort of mind could come up with it.”

Hythlodaeus set his face as neutrally as he could and steepled his fingers. “I really shouldn’t ask, but I’m going to anyway. You’re sure you want to find them?”

“Absolutely.” Her earlier hesitation was gone. 

After a dramatic pause (by the end of which he was sure that she was about to lean across the desk again and smack the heel of her palm into his mask), he opened his hands with a somewhat helpless shrug. “Alright then, I’ll see what I can do.”

Her relief was instant. “Thank you, Hythlodaeus.” 

“Well of course! Anyone that interests you this much without even having met them is bound to be an interesting person.”

------

“You know,” Hythlodaeus said to two of his best friends as he watched the scene happening in front of them from a distance. “I had high expectations for their meeting, but I’m somewhat disappointed.”

“It goes to show that you need some more reasonable expectations.” Emet-Selch drawled. He had been on his way to the office of the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect when the twins and Chief himself had passed him by. Naturally the three of them had bodily dragged him along for the journey to find the creator of concepts that Artemis had been keen to meet. When they were within sight of the greenhouse that the Amaroutine worked at, she had broken off from the group to go ahead and meet them with a spoken warning of what was to come should her best friends (and brother) follow. Naturally, the three had moved to be just within sight of her and no further. 

They had been waiting in that spot for quite a while. 

“That’s rich, coming from you. ‘I’m Hades and of course Azem can do the impossible, they’ve done it every day they’ve been in office!’” 

Emet-Selch stared back at Hythlodaeus. His red mask made his menace all the more obvious. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Yes you do and you know it.”

“He’s right you know,” Apollo chimed in. “Every other time we get an assignment, you’re the first one to cheer us on.” He grinned. “In your own way, of course.”

“Well I never.” Emet-Selch put a hand to his chest in dramatic shock. “What shocking accusations from two of my best friends. I hardly think I can recover.” His quietly growing smirk gave him away. “Although if we’re about to throw slander around, I have a few things to say about the two of you.”

“I thought you three would be in gossip mode by the time I got back.” Artemis’ voice interrupted the game. All three men turned and she gave them a wave. She had a far more peaceful expression on her face.

Both Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch looked at each other. Even though their respective masks hid the upper parts of their faces, it was absolutely clear that their eyebrows had been raised up to their hairline. Apollo looked more relieved than shocked. “Looks like it went well,” He said with a smile.

“Yeah...yeah it did.” Her own smile was far softer than anything her best friends had ever seen her exhibit before.

After waiting an appropriate amount of time (about thirty seconds), Hades said, “We should meet this fellow if he’s capable of producing soft feelings in Artemis of all people.”

Hythlodaeus chimed in as if the two had rehearsed, “Absolutely. If he’s to be involved with our Artemis, surely he must know he has three people he needs to impress.”

“D-don’t pull me into this,” Apollo immediately held his hands up and took a step back. “I’m fine with whatever she’s comfortable with.”

“Two people, then.” 

“Two people with quite exacting standards,” Hades added. He was so full of smug that his smirk had become a full blown grin. “We need a full profile of him immediately.”

“With at least three character witnesses.” Hythlodaeus was also grinning from ear to ear.

The parts of Artemis’ face that could be seen were quickly coloring from the onslaught. “If both of you don’t stop that I’m going to--”

Instead of addressing her quickly growing rage, Emet-Selch turned his attention to Hythlodaeus. “You never did say what his name was before we got here.”

“Oh right! His name is Darsus!”

“Hm, I shall have to look him up later.”

“Guys, stop before--” But Apollo’s warning came too late. Artemis had already conjured up a concept of lightning to chase her two best friends with.

[magusinferi]

Some random headcanons // not in full detail right now but to give a glimpse on my portrayal. 

Hades was an Amaurotian who knew very little of their Star since he never travelled; and albeit most of his brethren at least indulged in such activity every few hundred years – mostly for inspirational purposes – he never did. Due to his unique connection to the Underworld he often could glimpse upon the souls, quietly listening to their tales.

His abilities were indeed quite spread among his kin, yet Hades was the only one who could influence the flow of the Underworld in such way that it almost seemed as if he could control it. Though many were blessed to see the living souls, a true gift of nature, passing, he was amongst very few who could recognize their true shapes, saw their natures in the different hues and could listen to their untold stories. Due to such unique skill he, at least per name, was well known.

Hades never particularly enjoyed being around his brethren; mayhap since he was so indifferent. For many eons he could, in fact, rest in absolute loneliness without ever feeling truly lonely. Even as child – one time so far in the past that only very few of his immortal kin could claim to have known him back then – his affinity to the Underworld had been so very strong that he found friends within the most pristine lifeforms without one vessel.

For the longest of time Hythlodaeus was his only friend; and it took them several decades to become as close to the other. Nonetheless, due to them being almost equally gifted, Hades indeed found pleasure in talking to the other for a few hundred years, albeit never being much of a talker. They would spend hours over debating the soul storm within the Underworld itself, attempting to guess every soul’s tale and history.

Since Hyhtlodaeus was, despite his gift, also quite interested in common conversation with their brethren – thus there came a time that his friend was often called elsewhere, particularly because of his gift. Because unlike him he was indeed also very gifted to make new friendships. Hades had avoided his own kin for so many eons that he had become almost a stranger to them, and only very few would dare to speak to him. So he started to distance himself once again, despite his friend’s best endeavor to include him in their society.

Hades met the 14th, Azem, long before they took upon the seat in the convocation. One kind soul, indeed, who so very often helped those in need. They noticed that Hades was shunned; and knowing of his talents they would often ask him for assistance – which he, much to their surprise in the beginning – immediately provided. Thus it became regular for them to visit Hades; also to share their knowledge of the world with him.

The only time Hades truly found pleasure upon listening to stories of their Star was when Azem visited him. Unfortunately they would often leave, sometimes even for several hundred years, but then he could also enjoy their tales for decades as well. When his adventurous friend got called, he was not surprised – knowing of no one more fitting.

Hades has loved Azem, long before they disappeared – long before he even took the mantle of Emet-Selch. Upon their many departures he would, for the first time ever, feel unrest deep inside; and his loneliness could not be cured by watching the Underworld alone. As heartbroken as he was, he always remained indifferent when they returned; never revealing his feelings.

Hythlodaeus was the only one who knew of his affections. The person mentioned in Hades’ short story, the one Hythlodaeus mentions and wants him to talk to, is in fact Azem.

Albeit Hades was more gifted than Hythlodaeus it was his own ignorant nature, his lack of interest to interact with his brethren, which took his first chance to join the convocation. However, though loved by their entire kin, Hythlodaeus did not accept the mantle of Emet-Selch for Hades’ sake, hoping to help his lonely friend by giving him true purpose.

Hades was, in fact, a very kind and empathic person deep inside – yet it was challenging for him to speak of such emotions. Only his closest friends knew of this side of him – which also resulted them of not being offended when he acted distant and cold. Knowing he always wanted to do good, and never harm.

Although his own power was boundless, even compared to his own powerful brethren, Hades never particularly liked to display his skill – nor to show himself in his truest form. Only Hythlodaeus could make him change to his true self and form when needed.

Emet-Selch knew, due to his very abilities of being able to see the very core of one soul, that the Warrior of Light was indeed one shard of his former beloved. It was for this reason he was so obsessed with them; it was for this very reason he – somewhere deep inside – had not given up hope yet. On them. Yet he lost this hope in the moment the Warrior of Light failed to contain all the pure Light inside their body, proving once again that their soul, their fragile body were not worthy. Merely a shadow.

The aethereal lamp Emet-Selch bestowed to the Warrior of Light during the MSQ is indeed one he had once gifted Azem for one of their many quests. Prior the Final Days he would often hear Azem whistling when they needed him; thus he, in some way, told them the very same by pure instinct – seeing the shade of their soul so very clear in front of him.

Emet-Selch had actually kept his kindness, his empathy for many, many eons. Though he played a major role in the creation of the Allag, he was not responsible for their downfall as he had merely assisted them during the Golden Age. The Crystal Tower is also his very own creation; perchance one reminder to himself that there might yet be hope in their sundered souls.

He lost his love, his patience and kindness merely a few decades ago when his firstborn, the very first child he had ever sired in his eternity of life, died from natural cause. In the very beginning his love for the newborn had blossomed so well that he had become so very willing to accept the current state of the world. And yet his love withered. He was there when his son died in his arms – and he indeed saw how the soul slipped away, drifting to the Underworld. In this moment his hatred grew; his heart became numb. And he knew this world, how it was, was not allowed to exist.

[sparrowwritings]

Final Fantasy Writing Challenge Day Twenty-Four: Clocks

Day Twenty-Three -- Masterpost -- Day Twenty-Five

Two members of the Convocation of Fourteen sat at the same bench located outside of the governing hall. Each had similar strained expressions as they looked over the identical gaudy invitations in their hands. They also both had the fronts of their robes, their gloves, and their red masks caked in a tiny, shimmering substance.

"How much effort do you think Hythlodaeus put into making these?" Artemis-as-Azem asked. Since the other members of the Convocation had taken their leave, her act of pretending to be her twin had been relaxed for the moment. Insofar as looking actively annoyed was her way of doing so.

"Knowing him, the maximum amount to make this awful thing look the worst. If only to further embarrass us when we received it." Emet-Selch drawled. He shook the card and more shining fragments of that substance Hythlodaeus had created fell to the ground. He had been “inspired” by the incident that destroyed the Hall of Glass. Not too long later a concept known as "glitter" had been created. And used for occasional pranks by the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect against his friends. Much to their dismay, he had released the concept to the public, and so everyone in the Convocation already knew what glitter was when Azem and Emet-Selch had opened their cards and the substance had exploded all over them.

"Remind me again why we should bother replying?" She asked while looking over the deliberately juvenile handwriting. It was an invitation to join Hythlodaeus in attending a lecture headed by the leading expert in Time manipulation. That he had sent in lieu of asking in person because the answer would have been a firm no from both Artemis and Hades. 

One would think that a glitter-bomb laden card would have confirmed the disinterest of both parties. That person would also assume that Azem and Emet-Selch were reasonable people with even more reasonable friends. They would be wrong.

"That he put so much effort into this means he's required to attend and desperate enough for company that he ensured we would at least address the card." Hades sighed and ran a hand down his mask. Some of the glitter dislodged itself and fluttered in the air around him. "At the very least we need to see him in person for the technique to get rid of this damnable stuff."

"And give him time to beg us to go." Artemis dusted at a sleeve in a vain attempt to dislodge more sparkles. "I never attended any classes involving time. Is Kronos really that dreadful?"

"From what I've heard, he's an unpleasant individual and delights in his unpleasantness."

"So there are two of you in the city."

Hades sniffed. "My unpleasantness is limited to the few people I bother to be around. His is a public spectacle."

She put a hand to her chest dramatically. "I'm touched you would grace us with the true extent of your personality."

"Your sarcasm is much appreciated." A quiet silence fell over the two of them. Eventually, he was the one that spoke again. "So you're going?"

"Ugh," Artemis slouched in her seat. "I'm going to have to. With Hythlodaeus miserable and Apollo trying to keep up his spirits, someone else has to be there to make sure he doesn’t take negative criticism so personally. I’ve heard that Kronos lectures are entertaining, at least.”

"You're attending the Time manipulation lecture?"

Both of the seated folk froze, only relaxing when they realized who the speaker was. Elidibus gave a kind smile, as if the two were speaking of normal things and hadn't accidentally revealed the secret of Azem. Besides, he already knew it. 

Artemis recovered quickly enough to answer first. "Yes, actually."

"I suppose I might pop in…" Emet-Selch said lightly. "I've yet to see the latest developments in that field."

"May I join you and your friends, then?" Elidibus had his hands behind him, looking all the more like his actual age. "I've been curious about Kronos' lectures but I haven't had the opportunity to attend yet."

The two older Convocation members (well, one and one imposter member) gave each other a look. As one they shrugged. "Why not?" They answered simultaneously.

------

"So now that I've had to waste half my lecture on going over the basics, shall we proceed to the heart of why I'm standing here?" The body language and voice of Kronos didn't even try to disguise how utterly displeased he was with how things were proceeding. From the way that Hythlodaeus was sunk into his chair and covering his mask with his hands this was an expected, if undesired, result. Artemis could see why he needed the company. Being alone and dying of secondhand embarrassment in front of a hall full of promising students was far lessened when there were more people he knew that could share in it. 

At least Elidibus still seemed interested in the topic, seated as he was to her right. Hythlodaeus was in the seat to her left, a veritable puddle of forlorn mumbling. Apollo patted their friend on the head from his spot on the Chief's other side. Emet-Selch had taken the seat to the Emissary's right, more than glad to not need to directly hear the quiet pleading for the torture to end. That was his excuse, anyway. Artemis suspected that he wanted to be certain that the young man wouldn't be bothered by any other attendee during the lecture.

Hades could be soft hearted like that, when he thought no one was paying attention. 

Back onstage, Kronos received the answers (or lack thereof) that he must have been searching for, because he quickly snapped his fingers. A display consisting of a large line, followed by several generic people shapes and a timepiece appeared above him. He didn't bother looking before he spoke. “Now, seeing as most beings experience time in a linear fashion, and we’re now all aware of how it moves forward and splits,” A wave of his hand took the singular line and split one end into multiple ones. The people shapes floated until one sat at the end of each line and changed color according to which line they went to. One shape, white in color, stayed on the still-connected part of the line. “The obvious next question becomes: Is it possible to move backwards through time to change an outcome? I say yes.” 

Artemis blinked, then leaned forward to see how he came to this conclusion. From the corner of her eye, she could see Apollo stopping his comforting gestures to curiously look towards the stage. Hythlodaeus had even perked up enough to be sitting properly in his chair. 

“After all, time is a progression. One step begets another begets another. What many forget is that negative progression can also occur.” Kronos gestured to the audience. “Have any of you had to be diverted from the path you were taking because of construction? Don’t bother answering, of course you have. What happens when you must trace back your steps is negative progression. Your goal is just as far as it was when you had gotten started. The energy you had saved up to go forward is spent doubling back.” He gestured at the diagram. “Similarly, if you can figure out the energy it costs to move forward in time, all one needs is double that to go backwards. Multiply exponentially by the amount of time you need to travel and you will find yourself when you need to be.” Their seats were close enough that Artemis could see the proud smirk on his face. “Simple, really.”

“But can you actually change anything?” A voice called out from the audience. “All you’re proposing is the means to move backwards! Wouldn’t the changes you make affect your reasoning for going into the past in the first place?” Kronos glared in the direction it came from. 

“I’m getting to that.” He snapped. Quite literally, as he snapped his fingers and the figures moved around again. The red colored one moved slowly from its split in the timeline back to where the white colored one was stationed. The timepiece turned backwards to reflect this. “Now as the fool suggested there lies the possibility that, should you obtain enough energy to move backwards in time, you can cause the future you were trying to prevent in the first place. Thus, your self in this future must needs travel to when you arrived and cause the events that lead to you traveling, ad infinitum. This is what’s known as a Closed Time Loop, and many have theorized that it is the only possible outcome for attempting to change the past.” The red figure, having made its way to the combined timeline, moved in the direction of its split, only to move backwards again. Again, the timepiece moved backwards or forwards depending on how the red figure was moving.

“There is some…” Kronos paused, then said the word as if it were a curse. “Merit...to that theory. There are certain events that one cannot rightly prevent on one’s own. The rise of a virulent disease, for example, could be warned about. However, the disease could still spread before any preventative measures can be taken and cause the damage you had gone to the past to prevent. Similarly, natural disasters are just as difficult to prevent from actually happening. How then, can one effectively change the future?” 

Artemis looked to her right in time to see Elidibus on the edge of his seat. Even Emet-Selch seemed like he was actually paying attention and not just half sleeping through the lecture.

“Again, the solution is simple.” Kronos picked up the white figure from the timeline. “You must remove the person who will cause the most damage to the future you are trying to prevent.” A loud murmur went out through the hall that he ignored. “With that person away, the progression of events must change the outcome of the future. Thus your mission will be complete.”

“What do you mean by remove?” A student from two rows up called out. 

The man rolled his head (and presumably his eyes) hard enough that Artemis was sure his mask was going to dislodge itself from his face. Not that it would have taken much, considering how it was perched on his large, sharp nose. “Not anything as base as killing the person. I mean actually remove the person from the situation entirely. Isolate them in a place where the event won’t be able to touch them while everyone more competent takes care of prevention and recovery.” 

“But how--” 

The timepiece onstage made a blaring sound, shutting up the student. Kronos looked pleased. “That’s all the time I have to explain these very simple concepts to all of you. I’m obliged to tell you that if you wish to learn more, my papers on the equations behind moving backwards in time and how one would be able to isolate the person who would cause the most damage in the future one is trying to prevent are readily available. I won’t be taking any questions.” With that, he quickly made his exit.

Artemis didn’t look at Hythlodaeus, instead turning her focus onto Elidibus. “So...what did you think?”

The young man was practically buzzing with energy. “His grasp of Time and the mechanics of how it works are astounding. I would like to attend more of Kronos’ lectures.” 

She looked past him towards Emet-Selch. He looked like he just ate something sour. “So you didn’t think he was...rough?”

Elidibus nodded. “Oh he was certainly terse. An uncommon trait, of course, but refreshing to see one teach with such a method.” He looked up with an easy smile. “Although I will say I’m far more pleased to have been invited to see Kronos with two of my brothers than I am in seeing the man himself. Thank you for allowing me to join you both.”

The impact her heart made inside her chest was utterly unnecessary. Even if she’d wanted to, Artemis couldn’t have stopped the warm and gooey smile from spreading on her face. “Thank you for joining us.” 

A throat clearing noise drew her attention back to Emet-Selch. The red of his mask made it harder to tell, but he definitely had the remains of a flush on his cheeks. She was going to tease him about it later. “I second the thanks. If you wish to try out other lectures, be sure to talk to us.”

The emissary nodded fast enough that his hood threatened to fall off. “For certain.” He then peaked around Artemis towards Hythlodaeus and Apollo. “I would also like you both to join us the next time, if neither of you mind. Perhaps the next lecture won’t be quite so humiliating for the Chief of the Bureau of the Architect.” 

She turned her head in time to see Hythlodaeus, having gotten his second wind from Kronos finishing his lecture, melt back into his seat with a prolonged groan. “If I’m still in one piece after all of the complaints I’ll have to field, just say the word and I’ll be there.” His words were muffled between his hands, but they were clear enough to hear even among the exiting crowd.

“And I’m always fine with going where Azem goes.” Apollo smiled back at Elidibus with a slight flick of his hair extensions to remind those in the know that he was pretending to be Artemis.

“Then it’s settled.” The young man stood up with a slight bounce. “At a future date, the five of us shall see another lecture.”

“Perhaps we could attend something by Astraeaus?” Emet-Selch suggested. “Gossip says that some of his work had gotten stolen, and I’m keen to see if there’s any truth to it.”

“What does he create?” 

That started a discussion that lasted until the group had left the Akademia grounds altogether.