Chapter Text
The throne room of Mor Ardain was silent save for the rustle of paper and the distant hum of the Titan's machinery. Emperor Niall sat at his desk, reviewing reports with the methodical focus that had become second nature. Harvest projections from Gormott. Trade negotiations with Uraya. Supply chain logistics. All the mundane necessities of keeping an Empire functioning.
Another report caught his eye - seismic data from the Titan's navigation systems. Mor Ardain had deviated from its usual route three days ago, the path now trending inward toward the World Tree itself. The shift was minor, barely perceptible, but measurable. The engineers had flagged it for his attention, but offered no explanation.
A Titan changing course on its own… was it seeking something? The Architect? Was this a death cry?
The thought made him uneasy in a way he couldn't quite articulate. How much time did they really have?
Thought of the World Tree made his mind drift to the transmission from the day before. To Mòrag's voice, steady and formal as always, but with something underneath. Something that had driven her to switch them to a private channel, to open her heart in a way that made his chest tighten.
Come home. That is an order from your brother.
He'd meant every word.
His eyes moved to the communication device on his desk. Silent. Dark.
She still hadn't called.
It wasn't unusual - missions often required communication silence, especially in hostile territory - but something about it gnawed at him. That conversation. The vulnerability she rarely showed.
Aegaeon noticed the direction of his gaze and the tension in his Driver's shoulders. "Your Majesty," he said gently, moving closer. "Mòrag and Brighid are an incredibly capable pair. If anyone can navigate the dangers of The Cliffs of Morytha and return safely, it is them."
Niall looked up, meeting his Blade's steady gaze.
"Brighid will protect her," Aegaeon continued with quiet conviction. "As she always has."
The words settled something in Niall's chest. He took a slow breath and nodded. Mòrag wasn't just a skilled soldier - she had one of the most legendary Blades in Alrest at her side. Brighid had kept his sister safe through assassination attempts, through battles that should have been impossible to survive, through years of service that would have killed lesser warriors.
They were a formidable team. Perhaps the most formidable in all of Alrest.
"You're right," Niall said, and he felt some of the tension ease from his shoulders. "Thank you, Aegaeon. The Empire is fortunate to have both you and Brighid protecting it."
Aegaeon inclined his head, accepting the gratitude with his characteristic quiet dignity. "It is our honor to serve, Your Majesty."
Niall returned his attention to the reports on his desk, picking up the next document and forcing himself to focus. But his eyes kept drifting back to the communication device, as if willing it to light up. As if willing Mòrag's face to appear on the screen, irritated at his worrying, telling him she was fine and he should stop questioning her skill by fretting like this.
But it remained dark.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then the door to the throne room burst open without warning.
Both Niall and Aegaeon's heads snapped toward the sound. Grand Marshal Robalt stood in the doorway, and the sight of him - here, now, unannounced - sent ice through Niall's veins. Robalt did not breach protocol. Not unless something catastrophic had occurred. Catastrophic like…
Niall forced himself to move. He crossed to his throne with practiced grace, every step measured, refusing to let his composure crack. Not yet. Not until he knew for certain.
Robalt entered fully and bowed low. His expression was carefully controlled, but Niall could see the weight behind it.
"Your Majesty," the Grand Marshal began. "Forgive the unexpected audience, but this matter requires immediate attention." He held out an official military document, marked with emergency seals. “An urgent transmission from Captain Joblin."
Aegaeon stepped forward to receive it, as protocol dictated. His hand reached for the paper, fingers closing around it, and his eyes dropped to scan the text.
He froze.
His whole body went rigid, the paper trembling in his grip. His mouth opened in shock as his eyes fixed on something in the middle of the page. His breathing stopped, then came back ragged and shallow.
His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, pressing against his Core Crystal.
"Aegaeon?" Niall's voice was sharp with concern.
The Blade didn't respond. Couldn't. His lips moved as if to speak, but no sound came out. He just stood there, frozen, staring at the words on the page with an expression of such raw devastation that Niall felt his own chest constrict in response.
Slowly, as if moving through water, Aegaeon turned back toward Niall.
The look in his eyes made Niall's blood run cold. Grief. Raw, unfiltered grief mixed with something that looked like his world had just ended.
"Give it to me." Niall's voice came out harder than intended, Imperial command masking the terror clawing at his throat.
Aegaeon's hands shook as he extended the dispatch. Niall snatched it from him, his eyes racing across the text.
Emergency report from Captain Joblin, commanding the transport vessel commissioned by Special Inquisitor Mòrag Ladair...
Catastrophic collapse of The Cliffs of Morytha...
World Tree serpent engaged in battle with unknown mechanical aerial entity...
Entire Titan structure fallen into the Great Void...
Special Inquisitor had not returned to vessel before collapse...
No Blade signatures detected in the surrounding area...
No survivors recovered.
The words blurred. Niall read them again. And again. They didn't make sense. Couldn't make sense.
"Your Majesty," Robalt's voice cut through the ringing in Niall's ears. "I made contact with Captain Joblin directly. He reports that two massive machines - what he believes were guardians of the World Tree - engaged in battle above The Cliffs. The destruction was..." He paused, searching for words. "Absolute. The ship managed to retreat before the collapsing Cliffs claimed them, but the Titan itself..."
Robalt's expression was grim. "The Titan is buried now, Your Majesty. Beneath the Cloud Sea. And the Great Void - it's gone. The Clouds have filled the abyss."
Niall's hands gripped the report tightly. "And what of the Special Inquisitor?"
He had read the words, but he needed to hear them.
The Grand Marshal's head dipped slightly. "She had not returned to the ship before they departed."
The words hung in the air. Niall heard them, understood them on some level, but they felt distant. Disconnected. As though they belonged to someone else's reality.
Then his mind supplied the inevitable conclusion: Mòrag is dead.
The thought crystallized with surreal clarity, and Niall rejected it instantly, violently. No. Impossible. Mòrag was the Flamebringer, the unshakeable pillar of Mor Ardain. She didn't just die.
Brighid will protect her. As she always has.
The words Aegaeon had spoken just minutes ago echoed in his mind, now hollow and terrible.
But the Grand Marshal was standing there and the report in Niall’s own hand said...
Fury ignited in the Emperor’s chest, burning away the numbness.
"They didn't search for her?" His voice cracked with barely contained rage. "They left her behind?"
"Your Majesty-"
"She is the Special Inquisitor! The pride of the Empire – our strongest Driver! And they abandoned her to-" His voice broke entirely.
"She ordered them to retreat, Your Majesty." The Grand Marshal’s voice carried the weight of terrible certainty. "Before the mission began, Lady Mòrag gave explicit instructions. If the situation became unstable, Captain Joblin was to prioritize the crew and vessel. They were to report back regardless of her status."
The words hit Niall like a physical blow. Of course she had. Of course Mòrag would have given those orders. Always thinking of others. Always protecting everyone but herself.
I love you, Niall. I have always loved you.
She'd known. She'd known she might not come back… and she'd said goodbye without ever speaking the words aloud.
No. It was not possible. He refused to believe it.
The dispatch crumpled in Niall's hand. "Where is Captain Joblin now?"
"Based on their reported position, approximately two days out from Mor Ardain, Your Majesty."
"Order them to turn around immediately.” Niall's voice was cold, controlled in a way that felt dangerous. “They are to return to The Cliffs of Morytha and search for survivors."
Robalt's expression tightened. "Your Majesty, the Titan has collapsed into the Cloud Sea. There is nothing left to search. Captain Joblin was very clear-"
"I did not ask for Captain Joblin's assessment. I gave you an order, Grand Marshal."
"Your Majesty, with all due respect, I must counsel against this. The crew has been on the Clouds for weeks under extreme duress. They witnessed the destruction of an entire Titan and the loss of the Special Inquisitor has undoubtedly affected them deeply." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "These are good soldiers. Loyal soldiers. To send them back to search what no longer exists-"
"I don't care," Niall cut him off, his voice rising. "Send them back. Order them to search. Order them to keep searching until they find her!"
Robalt's jaw worked, and something pained crossed his features. "Your Majesty... the sudden loss of Lady Mòrag is devastating for us all… and given that she was your sister, I can only imagine-“
"No." The word came out sharp, absolute. Niall rose from his throne, his posture rigid with Imperial authority even as his hands shook. "I refuse to accept Captain Joblin’s report as definitive. Mòrag has survived impossible situations before. She is resourceful, she is capable, and she is more stubborn than anyone." His voice shook but remained firm. "I will not declare her dead until either her body is recovered or Brighid's Core Crystal is returned to me. Until then, she is missing. Not dead. Missing."
He straightened, drawing himself up to his full Imperial bearing even as his hands trembled. "Send Captain Joblin back. Now. That is a direct order from your Emperor."
The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Robalt looked at him - really looked at him - and Niall saw the Grand Marshal's expression shift. He saw the moment Robalt recognized that this was not a request that could be reasoned with. This was an Emperor demanding action, and a brother refusing to let go.
Robalt bowed deeply. "As you command, Your Majesty. I will dispatch the order immediately."
He straightened, his face lined with sorrow that he failed to hold back, and retreated. The door closed behind him with a hollow thud that seemed to echo through the chamber like a death knell.
For several heartbeats, Niall remained standing, his spine straight, his hands still braced against the throne. The perfect picture of Imperial control.
Then his legs gave out.
He collapsed, catching himself against the throne's edge, but his strength was gone. His knees hit the floor and he stayed there, one hand clutching the armrest as though it were the only thing tethering him to reality. The other pressed against his face, trying to hold back the grief that threatened to tear him apart from the inside out.
"Mòrag," he choked out, the name barely coherent through his ragged breathing. "Please, Mòrag, you can't - you promised-"
Warmth surrounded him. Aegaeon was there, dropping to his knees beside his Driver, his arms wrapping around Niall with desperate strength. The Blade said nothing - what words could possibly suffice? - but he held Niall as the Emperor broke, as the careful control shattered into raw, devastating grief.
"She knew," Niall gasped against Aegaeon's shoulder. "She knew she wasn't coming back. That's why she - she was saying goodbye, and I didn't - I should have-"
"You could not have stopped her," Aegaeon said, and his own voice was thick, shaking with barely suppressed anguish. "She made her choice."
"I don't want her choice! I want my sister!" The words tore from Niall's throat, raw and broken. "I want her to walk through that door and tell me I'm being dramatic, that of course she survived, that I should have known better than to doubt her!"
Aegaeon's arms tightened around him, and Niall could feel his Blade trembling, too. He could feel wetness against his shoulder that might have been tears. They held each other through their shared agony - Driver and Blade, brother and protector, both having lost people who were irreplaceable.
No Blade signatures detected in the surrounding area.
Brighid.
The name echoed in Aegaeon's mind like a scream he couldn't voice. His Core Crystal pulsed painfully as he felt the absence of her viscerally, like a wound that would never heal. She had been his companion for centuries. His friend. His fellow guardian of the Empire they both served.
And now she was gone. Swallowed by the void. No Core to recover. No chance to return.
Just... gone.
"She's not dead," Niall whispered desperately, clinging to Aegaeon painfully. "She can't be. She always finds a way. She promised she'd come home."
Aegaeon said nothing – he couldn't speak past the crushing weight in his chest. He just held Niall tighter, and in that silence between them, they both felt the terrible truth settling over them like a shroud.
Mòrag was gone.
Brighid was gone.
And their world would never be the same.