Golden Slumbers

Mythra didn't belong in Torna. Despite the way she stood as a golden set piece to match every other artifice and orifice of that fabled country, she never quite...fit. Oh, she looked as well with Addam as any Blade ever looked with their Driver - certainly a better match than Malos to Amalthus - but, say, Jin, silver, always faded more naturally into the tapestry.

Was that fair? Did it matter?

And of course Pyra didn't match. Of course Pyra didn't even try to match.

Mythra wouldn't begrudge her, not ever, but it still hurt. Being the unforgotten misfit...it burned.

Jin had said to wait for later. As it turned out, given the opportunity he was a hell of a hand at playing the long game.

So Mythra waited, and tried at patience - not just the kind people would think she had purposefully given to Pyra.

In her dreams, her unsubtle slumbers, she saw emeralds, cyans, amethysts and crimsons and bloody-hot blood oranges.

She never saw gold. It evaded her, just as it had always did, until...

Rex's eyes. People always said things about those eyes.

Did they mean to recall Addam? Lora, maybe?

Had it all really paid off?

The gold was gone. Torna, wonderful, glorious, golden Torna, was sleeping, fast bereft beneath the sea.

It deserved to, after all. She'd killed it.

Mythra wasn't sleeping, not any longer. She had a new task - a new drive.

Not just to get to Elysium - to get back to Elysium - no...but to find a new home.

When she shone as her own, their one and only golden light lit up by the strongest of fierceful flames, the weight of that responsibility became just a little easier to bear.

Now, she was ready to carry it for a long, long time.