Chapter Text
She was cold, which was strange… she almost couldn’t remember what it was like to feel cold. Since she had uncovered the cruel truth and opened her heart to the miracle she had been untouched by snow or wind, heedless of ice and frost. The endless winter that had taken so much from her became her armor and cloak, her badge of pride, and she learned to wield it in spears and gales. Her followers had been awed by her indifference to the chill, watching her stride through bitter drifts without a shiver. But she shivered now as the ache of it seeped inexorably inside and her skin seemed to burn and blister.
Nightmare images flickered across her perceptions, of those she cared for in danger… pain, corruption, anger, violence, fear… she struggled, fighting to gain control of her limbs. Her body felt as though it was submerged in freezing water, sluggish and helpless, barely even able to thrash feebly as her warmth drained away with every wheezing breath.
A thawing trickle, a familiar presence she had thought lost forever bringing gentle comfort, while deep rumbling sounds above her coalesced into fragments of speech.
“What was wrought by her will… can ever be enough?”
“See, thou, the shining of her spirit… gentle yet, despite…”
“Not yet finished… part she must yet play, before peace…”
“Full proud I would be, were she one of my brood.”
Drifting, darkness took her again, and some span of time passed in silence as she was cradled, close and comfortable, protected from the world. But then the cold came back, tiny slivers piercing her sleep with needles of ice that wormed under her skin. She took a rasping, painful breath, then another, before a word hissed from her numb lips:
“Nidhogg…”
Even after the death of his body he was glorious and terrible, an endless churning storm, violent rage focused through his eyes onto familiar tiny figures struggling desperately in the whirling center of his malign scrutiny. A trio of fragile mortals… people she knew, who had listened to her, who had been with her when her world was broken, who she had fought to save with her last breath—the earnest child, the Light-blessed hero, and the acerbic dragoon. She drifted closer, watching them founder as they pitted every onze of their strength against the might of that ancient vengeance—not for vengeance of their own, not to conquer or control, but for hope, for freedom, for life.
A shadow moved beside her, and she turned her head to see the vaguely familiar form of a pale-haired elezen she had met only once, smiling at her. “They need our help,” he said silently. “We who gave them our all… shall we bring our last to bear, one more time?”
She smiled back, reaching out as he did, each of them to one of the raging, clinging eyes. “For them… anything, and everything, always,” she replied without speech. In concert, they placed their hands over the hands of each of their friends and focused. She could sense the difference between Nidhogg’s soul and Estinien’s, the tendrils of the former worming their way into the cracks in the latter, and drew them out like pulling threads from a tapestry, delicately unweaving the bonds between the two. She knew that for a moment they could see her and the other elezen, saw the awe and hope in their eyes as they gave one last mighty heave and wrenched the wyrm’s eyes free.
Her perceptions were fading around the edges, and she felt as though she was dissolving into mist as she watched them look to the commander outfitted in blue and gold for guidance, then pitch the dread relics far out over the bridge, into the bottomless sea of clouds below. The amorphous elezen drew closer and she felt his attention on her like an errant sunbeam. “My journey is at an end,” he said, the words floating soundlessly through her perceptions. “The home of my soul is no more… but you may yet return to yours, and travel farther still.”
Haurchefant, that was his name. Details of his life spilled over into her mind, a cascade of images and memories offered delicately, cherished treasures of his life. “It seems I have some wisps of energy left after all,” he said, his insubstantial voice warm. “Come, I would gift what remains of myself to you if you will use it.” It seemed that he was holding her in his arms somehow, though they no longer had limbs or even faces, mere mists of spirits mingling in a non-space outside the world.
“But… after all I have done, I was… it was to be my end,” she said, her silent voice thin and fretful.
“See what the future holds, how the changes we have wrought will change the world, and how our friends will change it further still,” he coaxed gently, his words melting her hesitation. “Return to your life and bring my hope with you, Ysayle. Live for me, and for yourself.”
“I am not worthy. What I have done—“
“All sins may be forgiven, with time, effort… and love.” For a moment his face swam into focus and she saw his smile, fading like hoarfrost in sunlight. “There is so much love waiting for you. Take mine, add it to your own, and return it to the world. Reflected, it will grow into so many miraculous, beautiful things…” A flutter of lips against her forehead and he was gone.
Where once she had made the decision to spend her life, her self, to buy a future for those she loved, now flickered something new—a spark of hope, kindling a tiny fire to warm the frost she’d lived in for so long.