They walk up the ramp towards the core of the fallen moon. Erembour is reminded of moons back home- not the immense satellite that they can see in the night sky of this world, but of the moons she is used to. Silver chairs, eyes upon the domes of sky, bodies of kin. All of them with purpose behind their nightly vigils.
Upon the top of the ramp there is a platform, and waiting for them is a woman in armor. Magitech armor, Erembour recognizes. The armor of the Garlean military, and in particular a Legate. Chrome and silver armor, very masculine. Erembour silently studies the figure and sees through the ruse.
"Out of love for His favored servant," the Legate says, "Did the one true deity name me Nael deus Darnus!"
They raise their lance, glowing with light, as Erembour slowly puts herself between the Legate and the girl. "O Lord Bahamut!" the Legate declares, "Thy name is as sweet water to parched lips! How my heart swells at Thy sacred touch! This blessed sanctum is the domain of my god and His beloved children. Seek to defile its glory and you will answer to m-"
Erembour moves as if a flicker and grabs the helm by one of its wings. It tears like paper, revealing the face of a white haired young woman with the silver sphere at the center of her forehead. A Garlean, Erembour thinks.
She clamps her hand over the Legate's mouth before she can say anything else, and the silver eyes glow. Boring into her soul, or what it has become.
"The Dragon has robbed you of your free will," she says, her voice a hollow whisper that can be heard throughout the world, "But I don't know who you were before this wyrm clamped its jaws around your mind."
She forces Nael down to her knees. Eyes that were once alight with madness and power tremble. Perhaps she can see her. Aether vision would be the least of the blessings a being like Bahamut could bestow.
"Alisaie, what do you know of Nael?"
Alisaie blinks. "Nael van Darnus was the leader of the Garlean invasion force that tried to conquer Eorzea some five years ago. He was head of the VIIth Legion and-" Alisaie smirks and snaps her fingers. "He was the one behind Project Meteor, which was what brought this entire moon down on Eorzea and freed Bahamut."
She tilts her head. "Although now I'm questioning why Nael van Darnus is a woman. Is it some sort of error with the recreation or revival-"
Erembour turns back to Nael. The woman trembles in her hand. It does not inspire mercy, however.
"Your will has been taken from you and that disgusts me. Free will is the gift of all life. It is only with free will that you can become glorious or doomed. This must be corrected."
The shadows overtake them, and Alisaie finds herself standing not on the platform of rock and stone, but upon brass. A brass street, as far as the eyes can see. Whether metaphorical or not, she cannot say.
"Cover your eyes, Alisaie. Do not look up. Do not listen to the voices."
Erembour does not smile. She does not take joy in this. "This one is bound by the will of a wyrm. Her will is not her own. As you know free will better than any other, I ask of you to free her of the bindings on her soul."
Alisaie covers her eyes, but as a curious girl who is just a touch headstrong, she does catch a glimpse between her fingers. Of the winding coils in the sky.
Erembour, Erembour, a voice like oil and honey says, You bring me such a gift. It would be my pleasure to release such tight coils around her soul. But it will take time.
The voice stretches out the last word. It tickles Alisaie's ears like bristling hairs, as she pulls her gaze down to the ground.
"I will come for her when I come for her," Erembour responds, "I have more important matters to attend to."
Of course, of course my dear lady. But I must ask who the girl is.
"She is with me."
Erembour looks up. The white eyes in the distance stare back, and a lip an age wide curls into a yellowed smile.
Oh, I love it when you get protective. Come back later and I'll let you know how this one fairs.
The lips purse and blows Erembour a kiss. The shadows recede, and the light returns, and Alisaie finally opens her eyes to find them on the empty platform without a Legatus in sight.
"Wait," Y'shtola says, raising a finger, "Do you know someone who is capable of curing Tempering?" She idly turns to Ebeli. "I understand you were also able to do so, but someone directly exposed to the Primal Bahamut would most likely be in a much more changed state."
Ebeli sucks her teeth. Sky stares at Erembour, his face pale.
"Oh, I have no doubt he can cure Tempering but I recommend against making any deals with him."
"Not if you want them back," Erembour adds, either averting Sky's gaze or not caring in the least, "He is an expert on the works of Free Will. Where we come from, he created it. Mostly as a way of doom others."
Erembour takes an offered cup of tea of Tataru, nodding in thanks. "Continuing."
