This chapter was written in collaboration with Scylla.
Amon frowned at the incoming onslaught. Of course Scylla wouldn’t be happy being forced to share the same air as he did, much less the same house. But none of this was his direct doing. It wasn’t pleasing to know he would be watched… continue to be watched… but if that meant his survival and most of his freedom, he’d take that over whatever the alternative was.
“I don’t know anything about the Spirits, my dear,” the Elezen told Scylla. “Nor do I know why they speak in my favor. I spent time in Gridania, same as you have, and I have never heard the voice of the forest. Color me just as surprised.”
Amon got to his feet, brushing off his shirt.
“Though not all the terms of this deal are desirable, it’s better than jail or execution. I accept the Gridania’s conditions.”
“Before you hear them all?” Ben arched an eyebrow at the Bard.
“There are more?”
“You, in particular, are to be kept clear of the Mor Dhona and the reach of the Tower.”
This got Amon’s attention. The actor’s calm he’d been holding on to shed away as his aether, confined as it was, gave the appearance of bristling around him with extreme displeasure. “They can’t order that! The Tower is my home!”
“Was…” Noah interrupted. “The dark reality is it’s nothing but a relic of the past now. Those doors aren’t opening, Amon. Not to you. Not to any of us.”
The Elezen grit his teeth, the light of his eyes holding an edge of danger.
Ben recognized this, and said with a soft voice. “It’s not forever. Just please them for now. You can’t blame them for being antsy about what you pulled.”
“Aye…” Amon said in a raspy voice as he schooled his emotions, glaring quietly at the ground with his own bitterness.
“For the safety of this world, you better hope that Amon’s ban -is- forever, Ben.” Scylla shot a warning glare at bitter-faced bard.
“Even if Ben stops watching, rest assured I will never let you open those doors again, Amon.”
Amon glanced over at Scylla, his dark expression taking on a tinge of sorrow. What had begun as a journey fueled by the hope of his dreams of Allag returning its gifts to the modern world… had ended in failure. More than that, any future prospects of approaching this path, or the path to Azys Lla, was now blocked by the vigilance of the watchful Eorzeans.
If only they could understand his overwhelming goodwill and desire to bring the glory of the ancient world to the very people who shut it away and rejected it.
No one got it.
Not even the Elder Seedseer.
Something about it made his path forward feel dreadfully lonely and pointless. …But that was not sentimentality that he would express in front of the others.
Instead, Amon of Allag outwardly accepted his sentence in silence. There would be time to plan other means to reach his goals. Then they would see, and maybe, some would understand… in time.
Those thoughts were his only comfort.