Rhio Aldul
 Rhio Ellaire Aldul
| |
 "The only good answers lead to more questions." | |
| Gender | Female |
| Race | Hyur (current), Miqo'te (birth) |
| Clan | Highlander / Seeker of the Sun |
| Citizenship | Ul'dahn |
| Age | 32 |
| Nameday | 23rd sun of the 1st Umbral moon |
Pretty much nobody knows Rhio Aldul.
A lot of people have met her; she's always first in line to greet someone new, especially an outsider, and she's always quick with words and praise and discussion. It's only when those people have been around her for a while and paid careful attention that they realize she never really talks about herself. That while she never lies, she chooses her words carefully. That there's something more under the surface, something carefully hidden. Even if there's no malice, there's something there that isn't meant for easy viewing.
Of course, if someone cares enough to really search for the truth, she might start sharing a bit more. That's when it gets really complicated.
Character
History
The trouble with facts is that they only tell you just that - facts. They don't really explain a lot of the nuance. But they answer some of the question inherent in "what's the deal with Rhio Aldul?"
So let's start with the facts. Rhio was born in Ul'dah to a single mother, Ellaire Nior Aldul, who worked primarily for the Platinum Mirage as an enforcer. Not exactly prestigious work, but it paid well, and so her mother was able to afford Rhio plenty of education and fine treatment. The girl proved a quick study, but aside from being too smart for her own good and a bit of an insomniac due to vivid nightmares, Rhio was more or less normal. She liked studying magic, she had a good memory, she would probably grow up to be a shopkeeper or a social climber.
It was when her mother accepted a new contract with a lady of Ishgard that things changed. Rhio and Ellaire both moved to Coerthas as part of the contract, and the young woman began to be trained by her new matron as a combination of spy and assassin. A dozen girls of Rhio's age were there, all training in the same arts. As it turned out, Rhio was quite good at all of this - she had the wit necessary for infiltration, the size and skill needed to vanish into a crowd, the ability to stay in the background or make a scene as the situation demanded. She trained for five years there, from 13 until 18, and then she decided to leave by trying to murder the lady.
She was good, but not good enough. As punishment, the lady found a particularly cruel trick: she used a binding ritual on Rhio's body, carving symbols and patterns and then rubbing aetheryte dust into the young woman's blood. When she was done, the scars on Rhio's back were an inescapable lock, preventing her from communicating the lady's name to anyone. Then she was thrown out into the wilds of Coerthas with nothing, left to fend for herself or get eaten.
To belabor the point, she didn't get eaten. Returning to Ul'dah, Rhio worked as an assistant in a curio shop for a year before taking over the shop (possibly through a few shady deals) and building a reputation as a place where a rich collector could get almost anything. Banking on the eccentricity and wealth of Ul'dah's upper crust is never a bad gambit, and so she did all right, earning the occasional forgettable personal favor from those in power - no promise of protection, but promises not to specifically screw with her. She didn't speak of her past as an assassin and did her best to put it behind her, but she clearly wasn't comfortable resuming the path her life had been taking before Coerthas. After two years in her shop, she sold the store along with most of her immediate personal possessions and left on a ship bound for distant shores.
For seven years she sailed about, exploring the world and visiting far-off lands, learning a variety of languages and strange snippets of stories. It was seven years before she returned, at which point she began building a name for herself once again as a member of the scholarly group AETHER. She also began working on attempting to cure a young woman, Theodate Springhar, of what appeared to be magically induced deafness.
As part of this project, Rhio found herself in the employ of the Eorzean Guard, but her first interest was in helping Theo. When Theo took a long sabbatical, Rhio did as well, and she returned later without much regard for the state of the guard. It was only a burgeoning affection for her commanding officer that led her to take the organization more seriously. Within the guard she formed several close bonds with others - Deirdre Ta'ea and Eva Ianeira among them - and only left due to the unexpected disbanding of the guard by leader Mtoto Wamoto. Following this shutdown, she worked with Oskar Helvig as legal advisor and arbiter for the newly formed Everwatch, despite a growing tension between Helvig and herself regarding her feelings toward Ta'ea. It was around this time that Rhio first met Malcolm Foxe, who became her romantic partner as Rhio slowly estranged herself from her erstwhile peers.
Unfortunately for Rhio, this was around the same time that things came to a head. The lady found her once again and set Theo against her, forcing Deirdre to slay the woman in cold blood. Malcolm, distrustful of Rhio due to recent events, left altogether after it became clear that Deirdre had worked with the Empire and Rhio had full knowledge of this. Left with a dearth of options, Rhio returned to the lady with the intention of assassinating her once again, this time attempting to gain her trust from the inside out. Now working with the Garleans, the lady sent Rhio back to serve as a spy once again, with Rhio resuming a diminished post in the Everwatch before she and Helvig finally broke ties altogether.
Malcolm's return prompted both he and Rhio to return to Ala Mhigo, with Rhio finally killing the lady and Malcolm remaining in the city to help the resistance efforts. Upon Rhio's return, she was arrested as a traitor by the Gridanian authorities, a fact she did not contest. She had been imprisoned for a moon when a man arrived, promising to free her on the condition that she would help him repel the Empire and Dalamud alike. Rhio acquiesced, with the knowledge that Dalamud was close. She had given up on repairing the mess that had been made of her life and wanted only to ensure that her death accomplished something.
Of course, there were no witnesses that walked away to tell what happened at that battle. But if there had been, they would have seen Rhio giving an impressive account of herself. She wasn't turning the tide of battle, but she was fighting, and she was giving as good as she got. And they might have seen her vanish into the aether along with the other heroes of that battle...
But no one did see it. And anyone who would have remembered her forgot by the time she returned, five years later, disoriented and confused with the mass of other returning time-jumpers.
Without a home, family, or money, Rhio was forced to more or less beg charity from her friend Nel Turuphant, who employed her as a marketing consultant and shopkeeper. This quickly became an untenable situation for her; despite what she had always believed, being a shopkeeper was most definitely not what she wanted. After meeting Deirdre again at the gala, her frustration only became worse, until she declared her intention to leave the home she had known for but a moon. Her few remaining personal possessions were packed away, and she began traveling Eorzea once again, making a subsistence living and doing her best to maintain appearance amidst growing uncertainty.
Appearance
Height: 6 fulms, 2 ilms. Rhio was tall for a miqo'te, but she was still short in the grand scheme of things. The result is that she's quite tall as a hyur, something she's quite happy about.
Weight: 175 ponz, with some fluctuation based on her eating habits.
Body: A slender woman with narrow hips and lithe muscle, Rhio's build suggests someone quite at home with stealth and intrusion. Her muscles, while toned, are subtle rather than obvious, leaving her with limbs that suggest a runner rather than a fighter. Age does not seem to have had much effect upon her; her breasts are small but high, her limbs flexible, her skin smooth.
Complexion: If her accent didn't give it away in the first place, Rhio's dusky skin would make it clear that she was born in the southern region of Eorzea. She has a black tattoo on the left side of her face, an abstract design she chose to have after her injury and near-death experience. The scars which previously ran across her back are gone, although she remains reluctant to show her bare back to otherpeople.
Face: One of Rhio's eyes is the color of foam on the ocean, the other is a cold and intense blue. Her nose is small and rounded, her lips thin and carefully reddened, her eyebrows carefully plucked according to the prevailing Ul'dah fashion. A believer in simplicity, she makes use of cosmetics only in sparing amounts, just enough to draw attention to her eyes without being overt. By default her mouth curves upward ever so slightly, which makes her look amused or mocking depending on circumstances.
Hair: In its natural state, Rhio's hair is a light brown. She's been coloring it on a regular basis for years, however, and few would recognize her without hair the color of fresh apples. She adjusts her hairstyle somewhat regularly. Before the Calamity she kept her hair short and loose around her head, a cluster of hair artfully arranged to resemble chaotic strands. At present, she's let her hair grow longer and swept behind, reaching just below the nape of her neck. She's still reluctant to let others touch her hair, although it's less of an issue now that she's quite a bit taller.
Fashion: When traveling, Rhio dresses for practicality rather than fashion, but she still likes to flaunt a bit of style. Earrings and bracelets are her preferred form of adornment, and most of her traveling clothes have some extra filigree stitched into the seams. Even when dressing to impress she favors a certain degree of practicality, with loose pants and shirts instead of flowing dresses. After all, you can hide so many useful things inside of a shirt. Her heavier armor is inherited directly from her mother and has extensive decorative etching; while she generally prefers lighter suits of scale and leather, she wears the heaviest armor when she expects something major to take place. She also favors heavy gauntlets even in lighter armor, an added defense for what she sees as minimal extra weight.
Behavior
Voice: A strong mezzo-soprano with a notable Ul'dahn accent, she speaks quickly and clearly with an air of confidence.
Demeanor: On first impression, Rhio comes across as gregarious, polite, and friendly. Those who know her better realize that this is in no small part a mixture of her genuine personality and part of how she disarms others, making it impossible to pin down certain facts about her. She deflects questions she would rather avoid, she carefully chooses her words to obscure information, and she makes a point to hint that she knows more than she lets on. As a result, it's easy to distrust her or see her as less than genuine, due to the fact that in no small part she is less than genuine. Rarely roused to anger, she approaches many situations with what appears to be aloof indifference, trying hard to appear disinterested as she carefully observes what goes on around her.
Quirks: A proficient linguist, Rhio speaks in several tongues and will occasionally pepper her speech with more obscure phrases or words. She also speaks the truth at all times, something she is quick to remind others of. This does not mean that she is incapable of deception, merely that every word out of her mouth can be read as objective fact.
Intelligence: Speaking to Rhio for even a moment makes it very clear that she has seen and heard a great deal. She is not a great scholar, however; her preferences run to the esoteric, and she tends to prefer collecting several pieces of odd information over learning all there is to know about a given subject. Despite this, she will happily converse at length on any topic she is familiar with, and even several that she isn't. The physical result of this is her huge collection of literature, ranging from popular novels and plays to theoretical dissertations on the nature of aetherial transfer during magic. Unfortunately, Rhio is also aware of how smart she is, which often results in her overestimating her abilities or her knowledge on matters of which she has only a cursory awareness. While she is a quick study, she's not quite as smart as she'd like to think she is at times.
Tendencies
Likes
- Tea
- Literature
- Travel
- Secrets
- Jewelery
- Animals
- Fish
- Conversation
- Flowers
Dislikes
- Insects
- Tradition
- Religion
- Rain
- Being ignored
- Silence
- Ostracism
- Autocracy
Hobbies/Talents
- Languages
- Singing
- Chocobo husbandry
- Brewing tea
- Reading
- Journaling
Relationships
Family
- Ellaire Nior Aldul (Mother): Ellaire still lives in Ul'dah, traveling out of her home as necessary and remaining in distant contact with her daughter. The two of them don't get along, probably due to the whole "selling Rhio into assassin training" thing. Tracking Ellaire down is not difficult, and at sight she seems to be a fairly unassuming miqo'te woman approaching her middle fifties. Despite this, people in Ul'dah give her a wide berth, and she returns the favor. In the wake of the Calamity Rhio has claimed her mother does not remember her; no one seems eager to confirm this either way.
- Unknown father: Of course Rhio has a father. Biology necessitates it. But he wasn't around as she grew up, she doesn't know his name, and she doesn't seem to much care. Possibly deceased, possibly not, possibly doing all sorts of things, her father is one of the few mysteries Rhio doesn't bother questioning.
Friends and Enemies
- Malcolm Foxe: A man Rhio once loved, and in truth still does. His relationship with Rhio was frequently stormy, but also genuine, and she fell into a deep depression when it fist appeared he was gone for good. Upon finally locating him once again, Rhio learned that he was married and no longer remembered her, having lived out the past five years with only vague recollections of their time together. It isn't a revelation she's terribly happy with.
- Deirdre Ta'ea: A woman that Rhio was once very close to who she still harbors many conflicting feelings toward. At one point she was very much in love with Deirdre, but time and the various feuds between the two of them killed that affection. After meeting up once again in the wake of the Calamity, an uneasy friendship exists between them, but the friendship is still strained by both the differences in time and frustrations that had long simmered beneath the surface.
- Shienne Mimieux: After a long friendship that stretched through many milestones in the lives of both women, Rhio offered Shienne romantic advice that Shienne took to heart. To Rhio's surprise, that led to a date; to her further surprise, that led to more dates. While they're taking the relationship one step at a time, both of them are apparently very happy about the current state of affairs.
- Zeraia Reynard: There's no denying that Rhio and Zeraia are friends. There's plenty of room to speculate about what else they are, but neither one is talking. Rhio is protective of Zeraia, but still regards her with a great deal of suspicion; how much of that is caution and how much is genuine lack of trust is unclear.
- Eva Ianeira: Sometimes a friend and sometimes an enemy, Rhio feels that Eva is dissembling in a way that Rhio herself is not, but at the same time can appreciate much of the other woman's kindness and generosity. Unfortunately, following the Calamity the two of them have grown apart to the point that Rhio has rescinded her offers for friendship and assistance. She's not angry at this, but she is hurt.
- Nel Turuphant: Rhio loves Nel like a sister. She owes Nel a great deal to begin with, having relied upon her friend's charity to avoid starvation, but she has done her best to repay that kindness by helping Nel with her business even following her departure. There's little she wouldn't give to defend Nel or enrich her fortunes, and it would be no exaggeration to say that Nel is the most important non-romantic friend in her life.
- Oskar Helvig: After a frequently strained friendship that only buckled further due to Rhio's feelings for Deirdre, Oskar and Rhio have moved on to being simply enemies, at least from her perspective. One of her promises to herself is to avoid working with him under any circumstances in the future, as she believes he's harmful to those around him. She has mentioned to a few people that it she encounters the man again, she intends to kill him.
- Isilme Turuphant: Known mostly due to her relationship with Nel, Rhio regards Isilme with a great deal of respect.
- Selene Artemis: One of the last people she met before her departure from Everwatch, Rhio is intrigued by Selene, who reminds her of herself in some small ways. Their relationship is quite distant, mostly due to Rhio's frequent traveling and lack of contact.
- Aysun Demiir: Although Rhio has only met the woman on a handful of occasions, she'd heard about Aysun for some time beforehand from both Nel and Isilme. The reality more or less matched her expectations, but Rhio can sense some of the pain that must be informing Aysun's caustic demeanor. Whether or not her approach to moving past that will help or not is another story.
- Miya Sha: A fellow employee of the Celestial Forge, Miya is in many ways what Rhio tends to dislike about other miqo'te (although she wouldn't say as much). Despite that fact, she does enjoy Miya's company, although she senses the other woman is interested in more company than Rhio wants to provide.
- Ryanti Veanysus: Ryanti is currently being taught by Rhio in the art of combat, which is quite different from the training that he likely expected to receive. She makes no efforts to hide her attraction to the boy, but she also sees him as amazingly naive despite that.
- Mtoto Wamoto: When Mtoto was commander of the Eorzean Guard, Rhio only had brief opportunities to interact with the woman through a web of rules and regulations. Following the Calamity, she's had the opportunity to interact with Mtoto as more of a peer, and it's an interaction she has relished. She signed on for Mtoto's new mercenary company more or less sight unseen, based entirely upon the experience of the past and how capable she knows Mtoto to be.
- Kylin Felstar: Rhio has been hired twice by Kylin to try and rekindle the relationship he once had with Gerik. She doesn't know the details about that relationship, but she does know folly when she sees it. Despite that, she has few qualms taking his gil for these attempts.
Combat
- Style:
Rhio prefers striking fast to striking slowly, but not nearly as much as she prefers striking in a way that her opponent does not expect. She switches weapons and techniques rapidly, gladly mixes magic in with straight weaponry, and will take any environmental advantage available. Mobility, distraction, and unexpected approaches allow her to hold her own against opposition that she would otherwise be incapable of facing alone. - Specialization:
In an ideal world Rhio would fight with guns and paired blades, but ready access to firearms is a rarity in Eorzea now, and most blades are balanced for use with a shield. She makes do by relying on a sword and bladed shield, a lance, or hand-to-hand combat. Magic is a useful technique, but she prefers to use it to enhance or cripple her opponent rather than a direct attack. - Strengths:
Against an unprepared opponent, a constant barrage of unexpected maneuvers can make mustering a proper defense difficult. Given the opportunity Rhio is able to weave in, kill quickly, and weave out without a problem, making use of whatever assets she has to keep her foes off-balance. - Weaknesses:
For all her skill in dealing with thinking opponents, Rhio is not particularly strong or hearty. Against animals and monsters she is at a distinct disadvantage simply because she is forced to rely solely on speed and cleverness, unable to distract or disorient as easily. This extends to thinking opponents as well if she is unable to properly press her advantage; once she is on the back foot, she lacks much in the way of straight defensive tricks. Mistakes can be extremely dangerous, and if she herself is driven to distraction it's easy for her to try to match strength with strength she doesn't possess. - Armor:
Rhio generally prefers heavier plates over lighter leather, reasoning that the added protection makes up for her own deficiencies while only slightly hindering her speed. Scale armor and chain garments match her needs perfectly. She also possesses a few suits of heavy armor, inheritance from her mother.
Personal Account
The below consists of excerpts from Rhio's personal journal summarizing several of the most important points of her life. Not everything contained therein is perfectly accurate, but it is devoid of any intentional obfuscation; any flaws can be traced back to her own recollection of events.
Distant Past (backstory)
Training
What do I say about the Lady?
When I met her for the first time, I was petrified. I had only just turned thirteen, and here was a woman who made my mother look weak. I had seen my mother split men in half with her axe, had seen her shrug off blows that would crack stone, but even dressed in noble clothes with a thin rapier I knew the Lady was more dangerous by far. It was the ice in her stare, the way she moved like a coeurl circling its prey, the edge that undercut each word from her mouth. And when she explained what she wanted from the twelve of us, I only became more frightened.
She told me that I would learn to kill, to deceive, to appear and vanish as it was convenient. At the time, all I cared about was fine clothing and good books. I had no interest in politics, even less in lethality, and yet I knew that her words were promises and not questions. I would be molded into what she wanted, or I would be broken.
I was molded.
We were her handmaidens, girls taught the arts needed to be extensions of the Lady's will. She taught us of swordplay and manipulation while her followers - including my mother - taught us of other arts. Seduction. Hiding. Deception. Escape. Diplomacy. Lockpicking. On my fifteenth birthday I began learning to extract information, first with cajoling, then with threats, then with torture. On my sixteenth birthday I was sent out for my first assassination, given a target and the promise that if I failed I would not be welcome in the home once again. And even though I could have taken that chance to slip away, I found my target and killed him.
She had a gift, one that she tried to pass on to us. She understood what other people wanted, and she knew what to promise. So I killed at her will, and when it was done I felt proud of myself. I learned that I wanted to be something more than a mercenary's daughter, and she led me to the path I sought.
I was eighteen when I decided to kill her. There was nothing that prompted it, nothing specific. Poetic though it might be to say that she finally crossed a line, it would be a lie. I simply watched her and watched myself and slowly came to the conclusion that even if I didn't want to be something mundane, I certainly didn't want to be this. She would never let me leave, so I concluded that my only alternative was to kill her. It seemed like a reasonable plan. I knew the manor's layout, knew how light our internal security really was, and knew what time I could avoid drawing any more attention than was necessary.
But I failed. She disarmed me within seconds. And when the sun rose, she began to enact her punishment upon me.
The Lady had always loved ancient text, magical rituals and historical accounts from far and wide. She turned to these in my punishment. I was tied down, and she explained each step in meticulous detail as she carved into my flesh. Her knife tore runes and symbols into my skin, something that was painful enough before she began rubbing what she explained was powdered aetheryte directly into the wounds. By the time she was done I was half-delirious from pain, and she carefully healed my wounds, left me to lie for a few hours, and then repeated the process again. And again.
It took a week, in total. I must have been fed and given drink, but I don't remember either. I remember my mother holding me down as I screamed and thrashed, the Lady carefully carving fresh wounds in the pattern of the old ones. I remember her asking me to say her name after five days, and I remember the words feeling like syrup on my tongue, uncomfortable and sticky. Each time it was the same process, the cutting, the powdering, and then the healing. I felt my muscles knotting in unfamiliar ways, my skin crawling in a thousand places as the crystal fragments mixed with my bloodstream. And I remember her staring at me, watching me through the whole process, savaging me with an almost scientific curiosity.
When she was finally done, she asked me once more to say her name, and I could not. At the time, I didn't understand fully what she had done. She had placed a binding ritual upon my back, a spell that stole her name from my thoughts. I knew it, could think it, but trying to speak it would produce no sound. Trying to write her name makes my hand quiver and fall still. I could lead no one against her, tell her goals to no others, point no fingers at her activities. My only hope to stand against her was my own ability, and she had shown me quite clearly that I could not stand against her.
Then she turned me loose. Slammed the door shut behind me, and flung me out into Coerthas without a single gil or a scrap of clothing to my name.
What do I say about the Lady? She was cruelty, and she needs to die. I only wish I still had the words to fully explain it.
Wandering years
I left Ul'dah again at the age of twenty-one. Rumors dogged my departure, some of which I heard before I left. There had been rumors that the Lady had a hand in the invasion of Ala Mhigo and I was a Garlean spy, there were rumors that I owed money I could not repay, and of course the more pedestrian ones involving illegitimate children and star-crossed lovers. While several years earlier I would have ignored the lot of them, this time I helped spur some of the more entertaining ones, even starting a few by subtle suggestion and double entendre. It meant no shortage of business in my last month at the shop I was running, and that was more money to fund my traveling.
The truth was that I had left because of a dream.
My dreams had been vivid my entire life, but after the Lady inflicted her punishment upon me they only grew more so. After one year I found myself having nightmares so severe that I could scarcely distinguish them from reality and dreams so clear I could write them down hours later without missing a detail. By the time three years had passed, I had been given something that seemed to be a divine mandate. I had to find a woman robbed of her speech and hearing and cure her, a woman whose face haunted my dreams for reasons unknown.
But even that isn't the whole truth. After the years with the Lady, I found that I could no longer go back to what I once was. I had dates with young men and women who seemed pleasant enough, but they existed in a world of shopkeepers and gladiators and tailors. It was not that I found these things uninteresting, it was that they seemed like such a small portion of the whole, like focusing all of one's attention on the tiniest corner of a tapestry. My life consisted of reading, cooking myself small meals, talking shop, observing politics, and wishing for something that would engage me once again. One night I even strapped on a blade and crept through the city, not to harm anyone but to see if I still had the ability.
That was a dangerous road. So I left before I began walking down a road I loathed. I sold what I considered disposable, and I took the first boat I found for distant shores. And I found a world far larger than the one I grew up with, a world where horizons always promised new adventures and experiences.
Alain's death still haunts me.
You never truly get over your first love, they say, and that accounts for much of what I feel. In my time wandering the seas I was many things, and I often moved far beyond the woman I was when Alain and I first met. I still remember that first day with perfect clarity, when this beautiful man with hair like spun gold offered me his hand and welcomed me to his country. But for the ending, it would be a tale straight out of a Limsan romance, with a traveling girl meeting a handsome prince and settling down into a regal life having a multitude of children. I wanted that with him, would likely have settled in that land if not for his death.
When it happened, I blamed myself. His family did not, seeing me as the woman responsible for ensuring that the throne remained in royal hands rather than those of the would-be usurpers. That beautiful Alain died was a horrible price to pay, but he had two sisters and a brother besides; the line would live on, and his eldest sister took his too-short life as an inspiration and a call to do better.
But he had died protecting me. He had died because he felt the world was poorer to not have me in it. And every year as I think of that it gets more horrible, that he believed he was sacrificing his own life for some noble cause. That I deserved to live more than him. That by giving his life in my defense he was being true to the woman he loved. Even at the time I couldn't believe it, but as I look back at the damage I've done over the course of my life I'm struck again by the maddening pointlessness of it all.
Ashanna asked me to stay after Alain's death, but I could not. I would not. I kept moving, searching for the woman in my dreams more as a result of momentum than any true desire. And in time, I found it in myself to love again, and in time, I hope I will not see that as betraying my beloved posthumously.
The Old World (1.0)
Return to Eorzea
On the cusp of twenty-eight, I returned home once more.
I hadn't found what I sought on the seas. I don't honestly know if I had expected to find it in the first place. But I was tired in a way that I hadn't expected, tired of death and destruction and letting myself go where the winds dictated. I had seen much, learned much, and wanted t reclaim what had been denied me so long. Even the boredom I expected from small talk and leisurely existence seemed almost welcoming. I wanted to foreswear my weapons, indulge in more intellectual pursuits, and grow calm and fat and docile. So after many long years of wandering, I was ready to find my port of call once again.
For a time, that worked. I found employment with a scholarly association, made friends, and my greatest concern was whether the metallurgist or myself would catch the eye of the handsome doctor within the group. Things had not quieted with the Empire, obviously, but that was a problem I had faith about, something I knew would be resolved as it was necessary and not before. Until then, I could socialize, relax, do as I pleased.
And I was happy. Perhaps even more so than I had expected. The social games being played were banal, but I soon realized that everyone else was playing without a full hand and I had a stacked deck. Starting and defusing little rivalries in back corners, learning secrets with a few choice words and squirreling them away, enticing people to the threshold of my home but no further - all of it was dubious, obviously, but it also provided the interest I'd been lacking when I first left. I felt alive enough that the static nature of my world no longer mattered, and while my dreams redoubled their intensity and aggressiveness, that was something fixed with the right alchemical concoctions and a bit of care.
It couldn't last. And the end began when I finally found her after all. Theodate.
The part that frustrated me the most was that she fought me when I figured out how to fix it. I could give her back her speech, her hearing, everything. I could make her whole. I could fix everything. That was why I had gone looking for her in the first place, I was certain of it. It meant that all of the misery I'd endured up until then had a point, at least, that it had been building to something worthwhile, that it wasn't just suffering by the random whims of deities or fortune. And she fought me on it. She didn't want to be fixed. And she didn't understand why I cared in the first place, why it mattered so much to me that I would make this better.
In hindsight, it wasn't surprising that she left. I had done everything I could to keep her in place, even signed on with the Guard alongside her, but she kept evading me. And then she left, off on a pirate ship, a departure that I didn't realize at the time would become a prevailing theme for the rest of my days. At the time, I genuinely believed that she would be back, and all I needed to do was keep reminding others of that and everything would be fine.
When I look back now, I see regret. What seemed like aid at the time was really just my attempt to force my life to make sense, and if that required bending people around me to correspond to that shape, I would do precisely that. After what I had been trained to do, I thought that all the social games that people played around me were so painfully easy to work that there was no reason not to do so. No one else was able to see past the lie and understand how shallow these petty little battles really were in my mind, and so I could pull the strings as I wanted. I certainly didn't intend to hurt anyone, did it with no purpose other than my amusement and bettering the lives of others - but that betterment sometimes came despite the protests of those I meant to better.
Gods help me, I did what the Lady had done on a smaller scale.
I realized that I needed to find her. I needed to see what had happened. But her manor in Coerthas was abandoned, and it took me quite a bit of tracking to learn where she and her remaining handmaidens had gone. Once I knew, I set my sights on crossing the border and infiltrating Ala Mhigo. The fallen nation, the occupied base of the Empire. The destination of the Lady.
Lies and infiltration
I do not lie. That does not mean I tell the truth.
Getting into Ala Mhigo was a simple matter. I had been trained well, and I had no intention of staying longer than necessary. Seeing the lady alongside the Legatus pitched my blood to a fury, but I was not fool enough to think I could succeed now where I had failed before. I needed to learn more of her plan, to understand what she wanted, and within Ala Mhigo she was still surrounded by the Empire and by the remaining Handmaidens.
That meant slow, painful work, made all the worse due to the fact that I did not speak Garlean and the lady did. It wasn't simply that I couldn't blend in; overhearing conversations was less than useless for me. Only the lady's notes and idle talk among the Handmaidens revealed bits and pieces, enough for me to finally decipher what she really was after, what she had been trying to do from the beginning. She was still hoping to unify Eorzea herself. Lead the Garleans in, let them smash everyone together, then switch sides and push back the invaders and be hailed as a hero. It was a simple plan, and while I didn't decipher all of the nuances about where it had changed, it explained why she was working alongside people that should have rightfully been her enemies.
Unfortunately, I didn't have a means of directly stopping it. So I slipped away, back across the border, and I returned to where I had left off assuming that matters would be none the worse for wear.
I was to be sorely disappointed. Theo remained gone, naturally, but the scholarly association I saw as my home had all but disbanded, and the Guard had undergone several organizational shifts. That meant that I was now under the eye of Deirdre Ta'ea, a woman I had met a handful of times before under particularly negative circumstances. The first time I met her I think she wished to kill me, though whether that was out of sheer bloody-minded authority or my own flippant responses to her is difficult to say. I know that I did not much care for her, and I remember talking about her in disapproving tones to Oskar not long thereafter.
It seems almost surreal that at the time I could not have been further from her or closer to Oskar. Fate is capable of unimaginable cruelty.
Deirdre doesn't know I spied upon her - or if she did know, she never mentioned it to me. I take no pride in admitting it, and I can only hope that the frustration and self-loathing I felt watching her and Oskar in some way makes up for the violation of privacy as they sat in what they believed was an isolated in Coerthas.
To this day I can't decipher why I find myself so maddeningly attracted to her. And it is maddening indeed! My history with Deirdre is one of agony deferred at best. Moments with her that qualify as major events to me barely register as a footnote to her. I harbor no illusions that my friendship with Oskar would have survived later events had I felt nothing for Deirdre, but it could have at least survived longer than it did. She is younger than I am, colder, less comfortable in her own skin, cruel, haughty, filled with pride at accomplishments she has scarcely earned... and from a professional standpoint, she is also an absolutely horrible spy.
And yet I feel it still. I felt it then, crouched on an outcropping and snooping in to hear the things I already knew. For all the good it did me.
I returned without them noticing me and said nothing of it. It would be some time before I would tell others of my feelings, because I knew they were wrong. I could feel myself sharpening the wedge, something to drive through the tattered remains of my world and split us into different directions. Later I realized how much groundwork Deirdre had done to split things before I had returned, but even that does nothing to obviate my responsibility in what happened.
Yes, I failed. I admit my failure freely and without shame. The others in the Guard do not know what I failed at, seeing it simply as a case where I broke under pressure and gave in to torture and threats that I believed to be real. Which is partway to the truth.
I should have been able to turn them. Should have been able to turn her. Play-acting or not, I know what I am doing. And... something pulled at me, seeing her there, unable to convince her of my innocence and worth even as she stood armed and dangerous. I should have known the words to say, the promises to make, the ways to break their script and make them follow my own. Twelve help me, but I was chained and could not talk my way out of it.
No dwelling. I have shown weakness and must capitalize on it. It can be an asset to have others think you are weak.
Kissing her was a mistake. No, not a mistake; a miscalculation.
It was only a training exercise, yes, but one I was familiar with. My goal was simply to disarm her, and she had me pinned to the ground. I knew at least a dozen ways to meet my end goal from where she had me, but there was one that I wanted to use, and I did. I leaned up, kissed her, and while she was still momentarily baffled I wrestled the blade from her hand.
It meant nothing. A kiss like that is a distraction and nothing else. But even if it had been meant otherwise, she felt aught but surprise. I know my lot, know where I stand even if I would prefer things were different. Even so, it reinforced an image, solidifying an impression of who I am without giving away too much of myself. All of that was acceptable.
But I hadn't expected her to tell Oskar. So does a careless maneuver end a friendship.
Why have I become so clumsy? When did I take leave of the principles that have been the watchword of my existence for so many cycles? I am not angry at the loss so much as my own clumsiness, dropping affiliation and a potential ally for a moment of self-satisfying cleverness. Given time and effort I am certain, beyond certain, that I could have what I want without any fuss. Why, then, am I stumbling when I should dance?
Eva in a spot that should rightly be my own. Oskar and I against one another. Enemies where they should not be, pieces moving in ways I would not wish... a step back is necessary. A change, something to prevent this sort of graceless accident.
What I feel for Malcolm Foxe is no mystery to me and never has been. It's not simply how it feels when he holds me, or the smell of him, or even the ways that he knows how to make me feel warm beside him. It's that he's never truly given up his hope.
I knew when I met him he was a liar, even though I didn't guess at the magnitude of the lie. But I appreciated that about him, in some small way. His heart was on his sleeve, his intentions obvious. Even if he wouldn't tell me exactly who he was, his lies betrayed the heart of the man. He wanted to seem larger than life, to be noticed, and it was a sort of honest deceit, as ridiculous as it sounds. I believed in the spirit of what he said if not the content.
At times I see traces of Alain in him, and it frightens me. At times I fear I'm using him as a substitute, and that frightens me more. But when I find myself waking next to him I feel joy. I'm comfortable. I don't need to put up defenses around him. There's confidence and security that I haven't felt since before I returned to Eorzea.
Perhaps I can make this work.
It's time.
Mal is gone. Deir is gone. Theo is gone.
Time to stop running. To return to the lady.
Imprisonment and freedom
I will kill her.
I have spent too much of my life avoiding this issue, ignoring the huge loose end hanging over my head. I know now how closely she has been allied with Van Darnus and how far she pushed him before events spiraled out of her control. And yet she still seeks to salvage matters, to make use of her position in the Imperial army to manipulate and direct the tide of events within Eorzea. She thinks that a chance remains for her to play both sides against the middle and emerge as the undisputed savior of the continent.
By whatever honor I have, this will not happen. She will be dead before that can happen.
The first step was to grow close to her once again, and there was no better option than to willingly return to her service. She tried to bring me back into the fold once, with threats and manipulation; I needed only to feign hopelessness. The others do not trust me, and I know she feels the same, but I only need just enough to draw close. Give me just enough space, and I will find the weakness in her armor.
Returning to Eorzea was not my idea, but I can turn this to my advantage; she is not the only one who can plot and scheme. Oskar will allow me to return to the Watch, I've little doubt of that, and through them I can gain access to enough intelligence that the Lady shan't suspect any other projects. There are safe places to fortify, people to manipulate, perhaps even ways to turn back the moon that hovers lower in the sky with each passing sun. Even if I could speak her name I doubt anyone would believe me, which makes this project more difficult, but it is not impossible. I will do what I can, and I will go back with what I need to kill her at long last.
Then, in all likelihood, I will die. I find that oddly comforting. I am not the architect of my own fate; better to accept that than rail against it.
She doesn't even remember I was here. Didn't notice I was gone.
It doesn't matter. You knew she wouldn't. You knew she didn't care. You are wasting yourself.
No tears.
He kicked me out for consorting with a suspected spy. If the sheer irritation and indignity of the situation didn't bring me to tears, the absurdity would be hilarious.
I don't need him any longer from a professional standpoint. But I helped form this company. I wrote parts of the charter, I handled the legal issues, I charted our course. But I also quite happily criticized him, and rather than being able to take critiques he simply withdraws and grows wrathful. No compromise, no admitting shame or regret, just the same rampaging ego at all times.
The chances I gave him, the hope I held for our friendship, the lengths I went to stand up for him after countless incidents that he or Deirdre created... all waste. Time an effort better thrown to the wind. None of it remained in his mind, not after he had what he wanted. I should never have made excuses in the first place, should have let the cards fall where they may, left him out in the cold. At the very least I should have realized that he would never be willing or able to see me as an equal rather than a chattering distraction.
Revenge would be satisfying. I considered it, briefly - I'm fairly certain that with a few words in the right places, suddenly the Twin Adder takes a more active hand or outright dissolves the company. I could even convince the Lady to hire him if I cared enough. But the thought of working with him again raises the fur on my neck and stiffens my tail, and the only thing I would accomplish with my revenge would be to hurt him momentarily. I couldn't match the outcome of what happened with Deirdre or the Guard or his many failed attempts at inspiring loyalty. The pain he inflicts upon himself will have to be punishment enough.
If he lays a hand on me ever again, I will show him precisely how much I have held back.
Malcolm has returned against all odds. I can scarcely believe it, but it's true.
But that also means it's time. Time for me to head back across the border into Ala Mhigo and return to the lady. And perhaps with a bit of help from Malcolm, I may even be able to accomplish my goal.
She welcomed us with open arms, to no great surprise. I gave her information, I fed her the stories I wanted her to know, I introduced Mal as a loyal follower. She was pleased. My arrival at the forward camp was met with cheers, pats on the back, praise. A man I had met twice before, a Garlean soldier, shook my head and thanked me for my work in helping to destroy the cancer that is my homeland. He didn't mean it as an insult; he was warm to me.
Earlier tonight I found where he was sleeping, and I considered murdering him. It would have been silent, quick, and undetectable. One more death to bookmark the many I have had a hand in. Certainly not something I could object to on moral grounds, even if I had such shaky grounds to stand upon at this point. I have killed and betrayed almost everyone who has ever trusted me, am in the process of yet another betrayal.
But I let him sleep, and I plotted the death of one of his superiors and the chaos I would sow in his ranks, chaos that may very well be no different than forcing a knife into the hands of another and letting them take the blame for a murder.
I came to her in the dim hours of the night once again. It seemed appropriate.
When I met her, she was not much older than I am now. She has slowed since then, but she was still fit and deadly. The difference was that this time I did not expect to catch her unaware in her bed; I expected reprisal, expected her to be doubly prepared given my history. I thought about the plan that she would no doubt have in place to try and defend herself against my attempt to murder her. And I made my counter-plan, figured out how I could throw her timing off.
Mal staged a diversion with the help of the Ala Mhigan resistance. That woke her up, got her preparing for battle when I entered. I eschewed the door, opted for the window, and made no secret of my presence. I was armed and armored, and she was only half-armored and weary. It was the best odds I could have hoped for.
Certainly it was only age that slowed her. It was nothing so crass as sentimentality or compassion. I am younger than her still, and that finally gave me the edge. Enough momentum that I could pin her to the ground, disarm her, press my blade against her neck until a slow trickle of blood coated the edge. She spoke her final words, and I drew the sword across her throat.
"I will always be with you, Rhio."
She meant to shock me, I'm sure. To throw me off-balance. It's the same thing I would have said. The difference is that I knew that ahead of time. I knew that killing her would not erase what she had made me, would not free me from guild or shame or anything like that. Killing her was a matter of putting right what I allowed to remain wrong for far too much time. I took two things from her room, set a fire, and left without another glance at her body.
So this is how I shall die. A prisoner.
Mal stayed behind. I went back. I marched past the Garlean border in full regalia, my head held high. It took Gridania's soldiers far too long to catch up with me, with far too much jumping about and posturing at the fear that I had a weapon. I didn't. I came back unarmed. They took me, and they brought me to the authorities, and there were the requisite series of gasps when my identity was made clear and so forth. They asked for me to defend myself and I demurred.
I have lost absolutely everything. My company, my loves, my friends, all of it. I killed the lady, but even that merely served to quiet my own conscience. The moon will descend, and I will die, alone, unmourned, and unrecalled.
But I go to my death in as much peace as I could expect. I have done what I sought to do, even if it took me far too long to do so. In the end, could I ask any more?
He called himself Lior, came to me looking for help with some mad scheme or another. He said he could get me free. I didn't care, I still don't, but it would mean one last chance to do something worthwhile out of these shackles. I agreed.
I am certain he believes he is playing me. He's welcome to think that.
I bury this record on the tenth sun of the sixth astral moon, although it is difficult to mark the time now. Dalamud hovers close.
This evening, I will follow Lior to his ritual, his attempt to ride the power of the archon for a new dawn. He does not believe that the archon's efforts will succeed; I do not disagree on this point. Unlike him, I also do not believe that he will be successful. I believe the moon will touch down, and the hell that we have struggled against for so long will engulf our very doorsteps.
I believe these words will be my last testament.
There is so much to say, words that I could not find even if I had the time to search. I am alone here, apart from those I love and trust, and I think that is fitting. Nel is far from our shores, and for that I am thankful. Mal is beyond the reach of my contact even if I would risk him for it. Attempting to contact Deirdre resulted in the sound of a marmot scrabbling against a pearl, and that alone has been the part of this isolation that hurts. Perhaps something could have been healed, something could have been repaired in these last few suns before the sun shines no more... but enough of that. Hope does not change the world.
I owe this man my freedom, but that is not why I follow him, even if I remain cognizant of it. I follow because if there will be any chance in my life to justify the things I have done, it will come this eve. I will go, and I will do all that I am capable of to ensure that this world survives. I will die there, cold and alone, unloved, unnoticed, and unmourned. My legacy will not be felt in ways grand or small. I can only take refuge in the idea that perhaps, at the last, I will be able to look back at so much of my life without the regrets that plague me.
In my death, I offer only this in my defense: that I have loved truly, fought genuinely, cared earnestly, given freely, learned gladly. And I go to the great beyond hoping that if my life enriched nothing, my death will.
Goodbye.
The World After (2.0)
Annotations
Rhio's tropes: The Greatest Story Never Told, Metaphorically True, Exact Words, Cryptically Unhelpful Answer, Mathematician's Answer, Love Hurts, Weak But Skilled, Deadly Dodging, Combat Pragmatist, Professional Killer, A Lady and a Scholar, Bi The Way, The Unfettered. All in varying doses.
I'm always happy to meet with and roleplay with new people and players!
