The Legend of Sylph Stridemoon - Chapter 6 - Wings to Discovery

I've finally written part 6!! I hope you enjoy it and continue reading.

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What Feil described as the audience chamber qualified it as a misnomer. He had led Sylph to a pair of large wooden doors, which provided a gateway into a dimly lit edifice that seemed to be half the size of a cathedral. Sylph followed Feil down a red carpet lined with blacksteel candlesticks roughly his own height. Although stained glass windows lined the walls outside of his periphery, he could not help but admire the sheer majestic nature of the architecture of his surroundings.

When they arrived at the end of the makeshift corridor, Sylph was surprised at what he saw. A large, wide, mahogany desk lay before him, behind which was a rather large bookshelf. Two acolytes were rearranging tomes on the shelves, but there was one other who seemed to be fervently searching. From what Sylph could tell by its clothing, it was male, but it was a creature that bore slight similarity to the fountain’s statue in the courtyard. Its wings were not nearly as large, but still kept the creature aloft as they fluttered. It had fur as white as untouched snow, and its most pronounced feature was the red puffball attached to its head by a wiry stem. Its long ears twitched before turning to greet Sylph with a look of curiosity. He smiled warmly in reply, but with a matched sentiment. He nudged Feil and quietly whispered to him.

“That creature, there, tending to the books... I’ve never…”
“Moogles,” Feil quietly interrupted. “Direct descendants of Carbuncle herself. Wonderful creatures, they are. Always friendly and willing to lend a helping hand. I don’t know how this basilica would function without them... after all, they built this place.”
Really? Such fragile-looking creatures built… this? Sylph thought, but he was once again interrupted mid-thought.

“Ah, you must be Sir Stridemoon, kupo.”
Sylph had to look down to find the source of the airy, but deep voice. He immediately recognized what must have been an elder moogle; he lacked the red puffball of his younger counterparts, his wings were smaller and much more frail, and he sauntered toward the mages with a wooden crook. His ears were also an indicator of his age; they were bent as opposed to the pointed and perked ears of the more youthful Moogles. He was followed by two others who were robed in similar garb and hobbling along using canes. Other than the robes, Sylph couldn’t discern too many differences other than facial structure.

“We are the elders here at the Carbuncle Basilica. I am the head elder, Monobu. In the green is Pocomo, and in the violet is my wife Nikli. It is an honor to meet you, kupo.” The others simply nodded in agreement.

Sylph addressed all of them. “It is I who should be honored. It is thanks to Brother Feil here that I stand before you in the first place. I am grateful for your hospitality and healing efforts. And please pardon me if I seem aloof, for I have never met any moogles before.”

“Quite all right, kupo. You are most welcome here. It is very rare that we see a red mage around here. When Feil told me your name, however, I just had to meet you. Your story intrigued me yet further. Come… there is much we need to discuss, kupo!”

Monobu hobbled over to the desk and pointed, with his cane, to a few books on the shelves. All three were wide and looked to have rather thick bindings, but amazingly the moogle acolyte was able to carry their weight down to the desk with relative ease. Monobu opened the first tome to one of the many pages marked with a tattered ribbon; it was written in a strange runic language, one that Sylph could not read. His finger trailed over the line of runes, his eyes carefully following as he mumbled to himself in a tongue foreign to Sylph’s ears, yet strangely familiar.

Sylph intervened. “What is it, exactly, that you… we… are looking for here, Monobu?”
“Patience, kupo. I am attempting to unravel the mystery of Gustach’s sudden bloodthirst.” Monobu kept searching page after page until he finally spotted what looked like the paragraph he had been searching for. “This tome is a comprehensive history of Ivalice and its legends, kupo. There is much to be learned here, and I think your fate in all this is sealed. Sit, kupo… we have much to talk about.”

Sylph obliged, and Feil pulled up a chair next to him, fascinated by the elder’s sudden interest in the new guest.

Monobu began. “Gustach, as he may have told you, is the patriarch of the Necrati tribe to the far west. Years ago, he challenged the God of Winds in a fight to the death; he cursed his name for the winds that persistently ravaged his homelands, and decided to end it. Most unfortunately, kupo, he won that battle.”

“All right. That explains where he came from. When he decided to ravage Glenprice, it seems as if all he wanted was the ruby I had found in a cave earlier that day.”

“A ruby, kupo? And he is now in possession of it? This is not good, kupo,” Monobu trembled. Nikli spoke up.
“Long ago, the four Warriors of Light defeated Chaos to save our world. When they vanished, they left behind their crystals as a testament to their power.” Nikli combed through the book in front of her, which was also scribed in the same runes. “…and it basically says here that whosoever gathers the four crystals of the Light Warriors shall know that power once more.”

“Being power hungry will do unspeakable things to a man,” Sylph offered.

Monobu turned to the other elders for what seemed to be approval before speaking once more.
“Kupo… but what we find most interesting is the name of the God of Winds that he killed.”
Feil couldn’t hold in his curiosity. “It had a name? What was it?”

For the first time since they entered the room, the eldest-looking Pocomo solemnly spoke.
“The red mage we see here before us bears his name. The God of Winds… was called Sylph.”

The Ether pulsed.

...Coincidence. It must be, Sylph thought.
At that moment, more epiphanies than he cared to acknowledge hit him at once.
“No. Surely Gustach does not think… but… how is it possible…”

“Kupo, here at the Basilica, we know a thing or two about magicks. Mist runs in moogle blood. You, however…” Monobu paused briefly. Sylph felt the eyes of everyone in the room, including the flying acolyte, upon him. He dared not look back.
“…I sense no Mist within you.”

“Of course not,” Sylph replied. “I draw my power from the Ether.”
The elders could not help but gasp. Pocomo broke the moment’s pause. “That… that’s impossible, kupo. You do not jest with us, I hope.”

Sylph positioned himself in his chair in a way that gave Pocomo an honest reply.

“Sir Stridemoon… if that is even your real name, kupo,” Nikli said, “…such a power is only known to divine beings. At the very least, according to our literature. The Ether… it is a realm of legend, kupo.”

Sylph percolated only briefly on this new proposition.
“The logic is lacking here. I can be no god… I am but mortal. Clearly, I bleed.”
“But on anyone else, Sylph, your injuries were fatal,” Feil interjected. “You are not the first person I have seen in your condition. I am surprised you live to tell your tale.”
“Brother Feil has a point, red mage,” Pocomo said. “You may underestimate your own powers, kupo.”

Again, Sylph deliberated with himself only briefly. Everything seemed to add up. Too well, for that matter.
“…then that means… Gustach certainly knew as well… and… no. Glenprice…” Sylph sunk his head even lower. “…it was my fault. If I had not been there, lives would have been spared.”

“Nonsense, kupo!” the flying acolyte screamed, who immediately descended upon the conference to which he was listening so intently. “You couldn’t have known that you were who you were. What’s more, Brother Feil said that you did your best, kupo. I believe him, and I also believe you.”

Remarkably, Sylph was comforted. He’s right, Sylph thought.
“Thank you, young one. However, the responsibility to find justice for this tragedy lies with me.”

“It seems to be your fate, kupo,” said Monobu. “Gustach, as it seems as well, cannot kill you. He seeks the power that can finally send you to the hereafter… and who knows what else, kupo. We cannot let that happen.”
Everyone agreed.
“…which is why, kupo, you must retrieve that ruby from him, and find the other crystals before he does,” Nikli declared. “Where you will find them, we do not know yet, but there must be something within these old tomes that will help us point you in the right direction, kupo.”

“In the meantime, Sylph, we have a gift for you. Follow me,” Monobu said, already hobbling his way towards a door off to the back wall.

Sylph and Feil rose. Sylph adjusted his garb and silently followed.