"The fabric of our star began to fray..."

The chandelier above their heads sputters and dims, and for a moment Hades cannot be certain his eyes aren't playing tricks on him again. It has been a difficult day, the longest council session since he took up the Seat of Emet-Selch by far, perhaps the longest in Amaurot's recorded history. And understandably so.

The faces around the chamber are all grim. Beside him Mitron reaches over to take Loghrif's hand in hers, and across the room Lahabrea bows his head, his stern countenance unyielding - but only just. Elidibus looks to each of them in turn, a soft and apologetic smile gracing his features. They must act decisively, he reminds them. This course is the best way to put an end to the blight that has befallen their star, and they will prevail. As their Emissary, he will see it done. When the time comes and their preparations are in order, he will serve as Zodiark's heart.

At Elidibus's left hand, however... Emeth-Selch watches Azem stiffen, knuckles white; a storm threatening to break. As the meeting is at last adjourned, his friend tugs Elidibus into a quick embrace and then rushes from the room.

'Ugh. Just wonderful...' he grumbles through his exhaustion. 'Yet another mess. As if we require another.'

* * *
He finds Azem within the rooftop garden - as always. So many send-offs have occurred in this very spot. And now she hastily secures Arion's saddle, her movements agitated as she slings a pack over her own shoulders and raises the hood of her cowl against the blowing embers, a stark reminder of how little time they have left. Around them, the sky is aglow - not from the setting of the sun, for it is well past midnight, but from the fires burning unchecked in Amaurot's peripheral wards. They've done what they can to staunch the spread, and yet, 'tis scarcely enough. Few are willing to utilize their creation magicks in full for fear of what new monstrosities might arise in their haste...

"And just where do you think you're running off to at this hour?" he intones, as if he cannot already guess. As if she didn't make her stance abundantly clear during the session.

Azem shakes her head, undeterred as she climbs onto her familiar's back. "I can't do this, Hades. I can't agree to the plan. It's too much! There has to be another way..."

"You know as well as I that there is no other way. We've spent months exploring other avenues, and all have come up woefully short. We haven't the luxury to continue chasing our tails in hopes that something more palatable will reveal itself to us, and that is why we must give Elidibus and the others our full support as we move forward with the Zodiark plan."

"Maybe you are, but I'm not ready to give up yet. There must be something else we can do. And that's why I'm leaving. I have to try." Without another word, she nudges her steed forward.

"This is utter madness!" he shouts, planting himself in front of Arion to bar their path. The six-legged horse rears up, snorting at him in open disdain. "You can't just scamper off at a time like this and ignore your duty! If you go out there now, you'll be running straight to your doom! Stay here, do you hear me?"

"And if I stay, I'll be, what, agreeing it's okay for Themis to sacrifice himself?! And what of everyone else? How much aether will something like Zodiark require? How many more of my friends am I going to have to say goodbye to before this is over? I'll find a way! You have to let me find a way! Please, Hades, tell me you don't like it either..."

Hades falls silent a long moment, glowering up at her, his mouth twitching unhappily. Finally he says: "I don't like it. But neither will I abandon our people when they look to us for guidance."

"Then let me go. I'm not asking you to come with me, you know. You're needed here. So stay. Protect everyone. Look after Hythlodaeus and the others. And, hey, try and have a little faith in me, will you? I won't fail. I promise you!"

* * *
"And now, in that boundless sky where our friend sought infinite possibilities, I see only death." - Hythlodaeus

Amaurot burns and Azem has yet to return. The Convocation of...Thirteen has unanimously decided to move forward with the plan to summon Zodiark, a mighty god-like creation of unprecedented scale. A notice has also been issued: a request for volunteers. The Zodiark concept has been checked and re-checked for error, the Words of Lahabrea toiling ceaselessly over their calculations and final adjustments. Half their number, the Speaker confirms. In order to supply the requisite aether to successfully conduct the ritual and bring Zodiark into being, half of their people will be needed.

"Hythlodaeus, please." Hades ignores the high pleading note in his voice as he at last catches up to his dearest friend, no doubt a sight and short on breath besides. Hythlodaeus hadn't been flittering about any of his usual haunts - and it had taken a surprising amount of effort to find him in the first place.

When Hythlodaeus doesn't immediately reply, Hades bulls the conversation forward anyway.

"You mustn't... With your wisdom and skill, surely you could do more for our people if you remained..."

Hythlodaeus smiles at last as he turns towards him, his heliotrope eyes quirking up at the corners. Though he speaks as lightly and pleasantly as always, something about his countenance doesn't quite ring true. "I was wise enough to recruit others who surpass me in every respect. Enough will survive me to ensure our work can continue."

Hades looks offended by the flippant response, the non-answer to the request he can do nothing but skirt around. The line he's towing that he daren't step over. Or does he? Hythlodaeus must misread him (though he never does), for he continues gently: "Azem has not forsaken us. She follows her heart, as she ever has, and seeks to defy this fate in her own way."

"Don't you think I know that!? There is no time, Hythlodaeus! We need solutions now. We have a duty to this star!"

His words are as a guttural howl, unable to hold back the flood of fury and sorrow that threatens to overtake him. Indeed, he had held out hope of Azem's return for as long as he might, even as they were forced to continue on without her. Any day, he had thought. Any moment she'd return. Soot-stained and beaming from ear to ear. The hero of the hour, the sunbeam cutting through this loathsome, nightmarish present. His incorrigible associate, indeed.

"You are right, Emet-Selch. You are right, and that is why I must place my faith in the Convocation's plan."

Emet-Selch. Not Hades. It's a reminder of what he must do. Of who he must be. Emet-Selch feels himself deflate.

For the hour of Zodiark's summoning is at hand.

He speaks again, but there is nothing left to say. Hythlodaeus has made his choice, and 'twould be a disservice to deny him. He cannot ask the impossible. After all, what right has he to revoke what Hythlodaeus has so selflessly given? The words hover unsaid, the whispers of his heart, and yet... he stills his agony. He stays his tongue against that monumental blow. Instead he says stubbornly: "This isn't goodbye."

(Please, Hyth. I need you...)

"Ah, of course not. Take care, my friend, and stay true." Hythlodaeus lifts his hand in apology and farewell and turns to go. He doesn't look back, nor does he slow his steps.

Emet-Selch watches him go, his nails digging into the soft flesh of his palm, his fist trembling as he slowly lowers it to his side. His jaw aches, a hissing breath escapes through his grit teeth as Hythlodaeus's silhouette wavers against a backdrop of fire and destruction. He feels as though he's suffocating, as if his insides, nay his vary soul, is being crushed underfoot. Loyal, devoted Hythlodaeus. The first person who ever called him "friend". He cannot imagine a world in which that beautiful color no longer exists, nor does he wish to.

And yet, he must carry on.

* * *
"From this life, our savior born...May I be worthy of the honor." - Elidibus

"The time is come," Lahabrea says. "We shall rewrite the laws of creation. And we shall save our star."

And thus the ritual begins.

He looks for Hythlodaeus. Futile as it is, Emet-Selch casts his eyes skyward as the great multitude join together as one. Before his Sight a kaleidoscope of brilliant hues swirl and blend into one another, a chorus building and growing until a form takes shape, powerful and magnificent. The will of the star, Zodiark - their salvation made manifest.

One would think that this might be the end of their woes. For indeed, Zodiark answer their prayers with potent efficiency, His darkness pouring deep into their hearts, calling to them to lift their voices and their hopes. The star is scoured of the abominations that remain and their creation magicks have been stabilized. The laws of the star are rewritten, and The Final Days are averted. Yet much lies in ruin. Their people are left reeling, and it is deemed that another sacrifice must be made - this time to return life to their still fragile and broken star. Some few begin to question their choice, to ask whether or not the price may be too steep.

Fools, the lot of them.

For this is only the beginning of what was to come. Only the beginning of the true end of their world...