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navelgazed) wrote2023-01-03 02:16 pm
navelgazed) wrote2023-01-03 02:16 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land, chapter two
Title: Ancient Dreams in a Modern Land, chapter two: Y'shtola
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV
Relationships: WoL/G'raha (not present in this chapter)
Content notes: Spoilers for Endwalker.
Summary: Pandora heads to Dravania to assist Matoya and Y'shtola.
Ao3 Link
Master Matoya was a harsh teacher, but in some ways, she reminded Pandora of Venat. A much older and crankier Venat.
Y'shtola had volunteered to take the 'first shift', as it were, and given that she and her master seemed to enjoy dipping their toes into the secrets of the arcane, Pandora was certainly interested in learning whatever it was this age had to offer. Krile had made sure they knew as many details of the world as they would need in order to get by without undue suspicion--it was a gesture of good will, but Pandora kept the notes on them regardless. G'raha, who was clearly head over heels for Isra, gave them a goodbye they could only describe as conflicted. They felt bad for keeping him from his love, but it's not as if they could help it.
Their aether was even already attuned to the nearby aetheryte; it felt slightly different to travel, but all they needed to do was picture it in their mind, with Y'shtola helpfully providing a description for Idyllshire. Describing the aether in the town was almost more useful than imagery.
Master Matoya immediately noticed the difference when Pandora walked into the cave, admiring the hidden entrance. "Someone wears a familiar face, Shtola. Have you noticed your companion isn't who she seems to be?"
Pandora blinked. "Oh, she's quick. That's where you must have picked it up. I'm afraid we're at a disadvantage. My name is Pandora, and I am...well, this is complicated…"
"An unwilling stowaway, perhaps," Y'shtola said, smiling in Pandora's direction. "Master Matoya, Pandora. Pandora, Master Matoya. My teacher, and the woman who raised me."
"And our gracious host, it seems," Pandora said, giving a quick bow. Not for the first time, they reflexively went to adjust their mask only to find it was absent. That was going to be a hard habit to break. "How did you know?"
Matoya scoffed. "The way you carry yourself. It's completely different. Spotted it the moment you came in."
Huh. Pandora wondered how Isra normally walked. They would need to ask about that later.
There was much work to be done, and to Pandora's delight, they were able to explore the surrounding area, and get to know the people of Idyllshire. They were always accompanied, either by Y'shtola herself or by one of the frog-construct things Master Matoya had at her disposal. They found that Y'shtola made a wonderfully stimulating conversation partner, and if she ever grew tired of Pandora's probing questions on the nature of life on Etheirys, details about their currently shared species, and growing up under Master Matoya's tutelage, she certainly didn't let it show.
"Tell me," she said over tea one evening while both of them were scouring the shelves of the nearby library, dusty tomes set in haphazard piles all over the floor. "I have answered many and more of your questions, and I've been happy to do it. But...I am dreadfully curious about the society from whence you came, and all our information was from a rather biased source."
Pandora looked at her curiously. "If there's aught you wish to know, I'd be happy to tell. Why are you so curious?"
"I spoke of it to Isra not long after we returned from Ultima Thule, actually. But...I wish to record what we know, and publish it for others to see. I deeply regret any forgotten knowledge, and what I was able to gather at Anamnesis was not at all a complete picture."
Pandora was silent for a moment, watching dust motes drifting in the light from the windows. "He said...he told Isra to remember us."
"He did. I intend to make sure it is not just one of us that does. Knowledge of your society and culture deserves to be remembered by those that succeeded it," Y'shtola said.
Pandora didn't know they were crying until a tear fell on one of the pages, darkening the parchment. "Oh," they said.
"What is it?"
Pandora sniffed. "I just. It didn't hit me until now. Everything I ever loved is gone. I'm alone," they said. "Look at me, the living fossil."
"I didn't mean--"
Pandora shook their head. "No, it's not your fault."
A moment of silence passed between them while Pandora tried to dry their tears. They didn't even truly know what they were crying about. The people? The city? The world? Or the Unsundered, who they had not allowed themselves to think about for fear that they would break down entirely.
"You have spent so much time since waking trying to convince us that you meant no harm, that you were just like us. I think you may have not let yourself embrace those ugly feelings." Y'shtola closed the book she was reading, and made her way over to Pandora, sitting down next to them. "You are allowed to feel pain. You are allowed to mourn. I shan't tell a soul."
Public displays of affection were not encouraged in Amaurot--it was as unseemly as showing one's face. Pandora found that they could not give less of a damn about social convention as they cried into Y'shtola's shoulder, trying to keep themselves from making too much noise in the stillness of the archive.
More time passed, and it seemed Y'shtola was just as hungry for information as Pandora had been. Rightfully so–Anamnesis had only yielded some clues, but in the same way one doesn't write lengthy diatribes on the uses of a salt shaker, the actual minutia of Ancient life was unknown. Explanations on culture, the details of everyday life and work, were of utmost importance. Pandora was deeply impressed with the thoroughness of the mage's research, although it seemed exacting standards were the norm in the Matoya household.
Soon, though, their time had come to an end. It was the last night of Pandora's stay in the Matoya residence, and their hosts had decided something delicious was in order. Eating so often was another thing Pandora was getting used to–the constant need to seek out food, prepare it by hand without the aid of creation magic, all to do it again a few hours later was, quite frankly, exhausting. Despite this particular feast being for Pandora's departure, Master Matoya's stare left no question that they would be helping with the preparation.
"So, have you found the experience helpful?" Y'shtola asked ad they sat in the crisp night air, staring at the sky. "Staying here, I mean. I gather you don't often stay in one place very long."
Pandora laughed. "True enough, though I gather staying put this long is quite unusual for Isra and the Scions. But to answer your question, yes--your insights were quite invaluable."
"As were yours. I daresay I'll have several volumes based on your tales alone."
A beat of silence passed. "You know, you're a clever person. One of the cleverest I've met, really. What made you trust me so quickly? Aside from your aethersight, which I admit I envy."
"Well, there is what I said before. I have seen your aether before, so it's not as if you were a new entity. Just not one we'd had the pleasure of speaking to," Y'shtola said.
"Right. But what if I had been untrustworthy after all?" Pandora wasn't sure why they were asking, other than idle curiosity, but their shoulders tensed up in anticipation of the answer anyway.
"Isra is a part of you. I admit, even in that room as I encouraged cooperation, even I wasn't entirely sure if you could be trusted. But Isra is perhaps one of the most trustworthy people I have ever known. She has never once been selfish or unfair, not when it counted. And surely, if her soul came from yours, that must be a part of you, too." Y'shtola looked at them and smiled.
Pandora smiled back. "I hope I can live up to that."
"I'm sure you will. Ah, before I forget–I thought this might be useful," Y'shtola said, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a book with a plain cover, leather stained a beautiful red. "Admittedly, the color choice is influenced by Isra's preferences. But I thought you might have use for a journal in your travels."
Pandora took the journal, neatly tied so it wouldn't fall open. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and they appreciated it all the more knowing it was made by hand. "Thank you, Y'shtola. I really appreciate this!"
Y'shtola nodded. "Think of it as an expression of my thanks for your company. And for putting up with Matoya's demands."
The two devolved into laughter, watching the sky and chatting for hours more.
Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV
Relationships: WoL/G'raha (not present in this chapter)
Content notes: Spoilers for Endwalker.
Summary: Pandora heads to Dravania to assist Matoya and Y'shtola.
Ao3 Link
Master Matoya was a harsh teacher, but in some ways, she reminded Pandora of Venat. A much older and crankier Venat.
Y'shtola had volunteered to take the 'first shift', as it were, and given that she and her master seemed to enjoy dipping their toes into the secrets of the arcane, Pandora was certainly interested in learning whatever it was this age had to offer. Krile had made sure they knew as many details of the world as they would need in order to get by without undue suspicion--it was a gesture of good will, but Pandora kept the notes on them regardless. G'raha, who was clearly head over heels for Isra, gave them a goodbye they could only describe as conflicted. They felt bad for keeping him from his love, but it's not as if they could help it.
Their aether was even already attuned to the nearby aetheryte; it felt slightly different to travel, but all they needed to do was picture it in their mind, with Y'shtola helpfully providing a description for Idyllshire. Describing the aether in the town was almost more useful than imagery.
Master Matoya immediately noticed the difference when Pandora walked into the cave, admiring the hidden entrance. "Someone wears a familiar face, Shtola. Have you noticed your companion isn't who she seems to be?"
Pandora blinked. "Oh, she's quick. That's where you must have picked it up. I'm afraid we're at a disadvantage. My name is Pandora, and I am...well, this is complicated…"
"An unwilling stowaway, perhaps," Y'shtola said, smiling in Pandora's direction. "Master Matoya, Pandora. Pandora, Master Matoya. My teacher, and the woman who raised me."
"And our gracious host, it seems," Pandora said, giving a quick bow. Not for the first time, they reflexively went to adjust their mask only to find it was absent. That was going to be a hard habit to break. "How did you know?"
Matoya scoffed. "The way you carry yourself. It's completely different. Spotted it the moment you came in."
Huh. Pandora wondered how Isra normally walked. They would need to ask about that later.
There was much work to be done, and to Pandora's delight, they were able to explore the surrounding area, and get to know the people of Idyllshire. They were always accompanied, either by Y'shtola herself or by one of the frog-construct things Master Matoya had at her disposal. They found that Y'shtola made a wonderfully stimulating conversation partner, and if she ever grew tired of Pandora's probing questions on the nature of life on Etheirys, details about their currently shared species, and growing up under Master Matoya's tutelage, she certainly didn't let it show.
"Tell me," she said over tea one evening while both of them were scouring the shelves of the nearby library, dusty tomes set in haphazard piles all over the floor. "I have answered many and more of your questions, and I've been happy to do it. But...I am dreadfully curious about the society from whence you came, and all our information was from a rather biased source."
Pandora looked at her curiously. "If there's aught you wish to know, I'd be happy to tell. Why are you so curious?"
"I spoke of it to Isra not long after we returned from Ultima Thule, actually. But...I wish to record what we know, and publish it for others to see. I deeply regret any forgotten knowledge, and what I was able to gather at Anamnesis was not at all a complete picture."
Pandora was silent for a moment, watching dust motes drifting in the light from the windows. "He said...he told Isra to remember us."
"He did. I intend to make sure it is not just one of us that does. Knowledge of your society and culture deserves to be remembered by those that succeeded it," Y'shtola said.
Pandora didn't know they were crying until a tear fell on one of the pages, darkening the parchment. "Oh," they said.
"What is it?"
Pandora sniffed. "I just. It didn't hit me until now. Everything I ever loved is gone. I'm alone," they said. "Look at me, the living fossil."
"I didn't mean--"
Pandora shook their head. "No, it's not your fault."
A moment of silence passed between them while Pandora tried to dry their tears. They didn't even truly know what they were crying about. The people? The city? The world? Or the Unsundered, who they had not allowed themselves to think about for fear that they would break down entirely.
"You have spent so much time since waking trying to convince us that you meant no harm, that you were just like us. I think you may have not let yourself embrace those ugly feelings." Y'shtola closed the book she was reading, and made her way over to Pandora, sitting down next to them. "You are allowed to feel pain. You are allowed to mourn. I shan't tell a soul."
Public displays of affection were not encouraged in Amaurot--it was as unseemly as showing one's face. Pandora found that they could not give less of a damn about social convention as they cried into Y'shtola's shoulder, trying to keep themselves from making too much noise in the stillness of the archive.
More time passed, and it seemed Y'shtola was just as hungry for information as Pandora had been. Rightfully so–Anamnesis had only yielded some clues, but in the same way one doesn't write lengthy diatribes on the uses of a salt shaker, the actual minutia of Ancient life was unknown. Explanations on culture, the details of everyday life and work, were of utmost importance. Pandora was deeply impressed with the thoroughness of the mage's research, although it seemed exacting standards were the norm in the Matoya household.
Soon, though, their time had come to an end. It was the last night of Pandora's stay in the Matoya residence, and their hosts had decided something delicious was in order. Eating so often was another thing Pandora was getting used to–the constant need to seek out food, prepare it by hand without the aid of creation magic, all to do it again a few hours later was, quite frankly, exhausting. Despite this particular feast being for Pandora's departure, Master Matoya's stare left no question that they would be helping with the preparation.
"So, have you found the experience helpful?" Y'shtola asked ad they sat in the crisp night air, staring at the sky. "Staying here, I mean. I gather you don't often stay in one place very long."
Pandora laughed. "True enough, though I gather staying put this long is quite unusual for Isra and the Scions. But to answer your question, yes--your insights were quite invaluable."
"As were yours. I daresay I'll have several volumes based on your tales alone."
A beat of silence passed. "You know, you're a clever person. One of the cleverest I've met, really. What made you trust me so quickly? Aside from your aethersight, which I admit I envy."
"Well, there is what I said before. I have seen your aether before, so it's not as if you were a new entity. Just not one we'd had the pleasure of speaking to," Y'shtola said.
"Right. But what if I had been untrustworthy after all?" Pandora wasn't sure why they were asking, other than idle curiosity, but their shoulders tensed up in anticipation of the answer anyway.
"Isra is a part of you. I admit, even in that room as I encouraged cooperation, even I wasn't entirely sure if you could be trusted. But Isra is perhaps one of the most trustworthy people I have ever known. She has never once been selfish or unfair, not when it counted. And surely, if her soul came from yours, that must be a part of you, too." Y'shtola looked at them and smiled.
Pandora smiled back. "I hope I can live up to that."
"I'm sure you will. Ah, before I forget–I thought this might be useful," Y'shtola said, rummaging through her bag and pulling out a book with a plain cover, leather stained a beautiful red. "Admittedly, the color choice is influenced by Isra's preferences. But I thought you might have use for a journal in your travels."
Pandora took the journal, neatly tied so it wouldn't fall open. It was a fine piece of craftsmanship, and they appreciated it all the more knowing it was made by hand. "Thank you, Y'shtola. I really appreciate this!"
Y'shtola nodded. "Think of it as an expression of my thanks for your company. And for putting up with Matoya's demands."
The two devolved into laughter, watching the sky and chatting for hours more.