A/N: Writing has been hard lately. I'm sorry for the lack of updates, and even this chapter feels a bit incomplete, but I wanted to release something.

Chapter Three: Acedia

Flights around Shiva's cadaver had a way of making people uncomfortable.

Casnia is no exception.

It's silly, how the space around the dead God unnerves her, because the Astral has been dead for years and Niflheim's military is nothing if not thorough.

Realistically, she knows there's nothing to worry about. There's no chance of Shiva rising again, and the empire's airships are more than efficient in cutting through the hazardous weather typical to the region surrounding the cadaver.

It'd take more than wind and snow to down one of Niflheim's airships. There's no cause for concern.

And yet, Casnia still finds herself on edge. Her leg is bouncing under the table and she catches herself rereading over the same block of text on her tablet for the third time in the past five minutes. The low hum of the airship's engine is like a dull roar in her ears, and rather than reassure her of the steadiness in the ship's systems, it only amplifies the lack of other sounds around her.

There's always a subtle shift in the air during these flights—a deafening sort of quiet, where the silence becomes a sound in itself, and always accompanied by an almost involuntary, heightened state of awareness.

She knows she's not alone in these feelings of paranoia. She's heard others express similar concerns about the area, and has witnessed evidence multiple times; conversations tend to die down to mere whispers around the ship whenever the cadaver comes into range, and tension thickens the air.

Gralean personnel, in specific, absently touch the weapons holstered to them—an action Casnia finds that she mirrored as soon as the thought crosses her mind. She jerks her hand away from resting on the pistol on her thigh.

She hadn't even realized she reached for it.

The shadows at the edges of her vision seem to grow sharper and jagged. Goosebumps prick along her skin and the hair stands on end on the back of her neck.

This is normal, she forcefully reminds herself as the knot in her stomach tightens. This unease is typical to the area.

But it's irritating all the same. She knows that there is no threat in the area, but her instincts and body disagree.

Casnia runs a hand down her face and inhales deeply, then stands up and leaves the small room, heading towards the front of the ship. Being around others—even being around MTs—would calm her. Another presence to take her mind off of the resounding silence would be preferable than focusing on the rising paranoia.

.

The silence persists in the halls. Some crewmembers nod at her as she walks by, and while they all appear outwardly composed, the stiffness in their shoulders and the rigidity in their salutes hint at their nervousness.

No one is willing to strike up a conversation, and the atmosphere around them is exactly what she expected.

There's not many people on the ship to begin with. It's a standard transport ship with a skeleton crew and a squad or two of soldiers for defense. The ship and its crew is written to Ardyn, and despite its designation as a diplomatic ship, is arguably one of the more active ships in their fleet. Ardyn never remained in a single place for too long and flew around Niflheim's territories on a weekly basis. His trips were often for business, but sometimes he travelled for what he called 'personal curiosities.'

Casnia only ever accompanied him on the former, and she rarely saw him bring anyone but the captain with him on the latter. She also once asked why he never traveled on the airship cruiser assigned to him by the Emperor. The cruiser was quicker, more defensible, and more fitting for someone of his position—he was the chancellor.

It's all unnecessary, is what Ardyn answered her with, accompanied by a dismissive wave of his hand. He acted as though he was unaware his high rank made him a target.

Either that, or he didn't care.

Both scenarios made her sigh in exasperation. Planning security detail on Ardyn's trips is always a nightmare even when he insists he doesn't need it.

Ravus is somewhere on the ship, but he had yet to interact with the rest of the crew and Casnia felt no need to seek him out. She had done her part in finding him a spot in the military; the Caldus family had enough reputation that she was able to pull on some strings and landed him a position on another General's personal squadron. Ravus' own familial reputation definitely helped in the matter, and probably played a role in why General Drace was so quick to accept him.

Regardless, Ravus was no longer her concern.

The flight deck terminal accepts Casnia's clearance rank and the door gives a mechanical hiss as it slides open. The MT standing guard doesn't glance at her as she enters and is as stoic as ever, showing no hint of being affected by the cadaver's influence.

The only other living people in the room besides her are Ardyn and the ship's captain, who oversees the MT's operating the various terminals. The captain stands on the lower platform, and nods in her direction over his shoulder as she enters.

Ardyn, on the other hand, doesn't acknowledge her. He sits comfortably in a chair on the upper platform with one leg crossed over the other, and chin resting neatly in one hand.

Casnia spares him a glance as she moves to stand beside the railing separating the two platforms, overlooking the rest of the deck. From her spot she can read some of the flight monitors below and is able to gauge the tailwind and surrounding atmosphere. There's nothing of note on the screens and the weather outside seems relatively subdued compared to the snowstorms typical of the area.

She idly rubs an arm and tries to rid the goosebumps from her skin. Her nerves slowly settle as the sounds of the flight deck fill her hearing—a low howling from the wind outside, the mechanical hum of the airship, and the occasional pinging from the terminals below.

"Have you read the Cosmogony, Miss Caldus?"

Casnia startles at the sudden question behind her and whirls around to face Ardyn. He's still in his seat, though his fingers are now crossed and settled across his lap. Casnia folds her hands behind her back, clears her throat and tries to calm her racing heart. The cadaver's influence, she remembers, annoyed at her jumpiness. "I believe most have. Or some version of it in any case, as it's a popular children's story."

"But have you read the full text? If I recall correctly, Gralea holds several complete copies." Though the words were directed at her, she finds his attention still lingers elsewhere. He's not looking at her and his eyes are unfocused as he speaks.

"No," she answers after a pause, taking in his relaxed pose. Was he not affected by the cadaver? "I've never found much interest in it."

That gains his attention. "Curious, as I also recall you have a fondness for history."

"I see the Cosmogony as more of a religious text than a history book."

"A statement I've heard before," he says with a tinge of amusement. "Most Graleans hold the same belief. Indeed, we'd hardly have the scene in front of us now if the empire put as much stock in the text as Lucians do." He waves his hand and she follows the direction of his gaze. The faint outline of Shiva is visible in the distance, occasionally blotted out by the gusts of snow beating against the airship. Their course doesn't take them directly above the cadaver, but close to it.

"Perhaps there is merit in interpreting the text in such a fashion," he says as he raises from his seat. "Yet even so, you cannot argue that there is no history to be found within."

"Certainly," she allows, and makes space as Ardyn approaches. "But I simply prefer the narrative of our own history books."

He smiles mockingly. "Most prefer their own, as faults and mistakes are harder to find."

"It's not a matter of nationalism, sir," she mutters in annoyance, bristling. "I'm aware of the bias. I only prefer our view of history because we don't remove agency from humanity."

The remark seems to surprise him. "Oh?"

The look he gives her reminds her of the one he gave her in the Academy, years ago. A look of assessment. The observant, sharp gleam in his eyes is not nearly as intimidating as it was then—she's no longer a teenager—but she still never enjoys having his full attention like this. The last time it happened, she landed this job, and while Ardyn has already asserted that her first impression on him was favorable, she's never forgotten his first impression on her.

Be cautious.

"The Astrals have played a major role in history," she says slowly. "That's undeniable. But the Cosmogony places the fate of everything in the hands of the Astrals… in the Crystal, in the Oracle, in the line of Lucis. Essentially, the text presents the power of the Astrals as both the cause of all our successes and as the only thing capable of saving us from the Starscourge."

She glances away and focuses ahead of her, hands gripping at the railing. The cold steel nips at her skin through her gloves. "And yet, as you said, look at the view in front of us." She mimics his previous gesture, even though the cadaver can no longer be seen through the glass. "An Astral lays dead. How can they be our saviors if we can defeat them? Where is their proposed power?"

"Would you prefer them indomitable?" Ardyn asks airily, crossing his arms. "Given that Gralea still stands, I would expect to find you relieved in the fact they have proven they are not."

"Of course I'm glad we defeated Shiva, but it's also exactly my point. The fact that they are fallible makes me question their capacity to save us, as well as their status above us. Not to mention their benevolence—Shiva attacked us, not the other way around."

She inhales deeply and quells the flare of irritation associated with the topic before continuing, "The Cosmogony books—and most accounts of ancient history, for that matter—tell us that the Starscourge came from Ifrit. But if one Astral is capable of causing such calamity, why have the others never staged a direct intervention in response?"

"Perhaps the Astrals are not all equal," Ardyn ventures, leaning his hip against the railing. "Perhaps Ifrit's assault is more than what the others are capable of remedying."

"Shiva's defeat would support that theory," Casnia says with a snort, "but we've also been blessed with the Oracle and a Crystal, both of which make it difficult to believe that the Astrals don't have the power to undo what Ifrit inflicted on us." She shakes her head. "Furthermore, why must the world wait for a human to be chosen to fix their mess? Why is humanity responsible to begin with?"

"You were just arguing for human agency. Is this not a method in which we save ourselves?"

"No, because the Chosen," Casnia mutters with a deep scowl, "much like the Oracle, is still only capable of saving us with the Astrals' blessing. Although it's about time their Crystal finally woke up."

A brief silence settles over them while Ardyn considers her words. The silence stretches and her lips thin as she waits for another reprimand, and she's about to apologize for her frankness when he chuckles. "You evidently don't hold a fond view of the divine," he eventually says.

"I don't hold a fond view for most of the instruments described in the Cosmogony."

"An unusual perspective," he says, and in her irritation she misses the way he tilts his head at her. "One you strongly believe in, if the vehemence in your words is any indication."

Casnia opens her mouth, but hears the teasing lilt in his voice and pauses. After glancing up at him and seeing the mirth in his eyes, her shoulders drop and the tension seeps out of them. "I apologize for getting heated over this," she mutters with a sigh. "It's a subject I'm rather passionate about."

Ardyn's lips quirk up, but the gleam of interest in his eyes remain. "Indeed. The last time you spoke with such conviction was when I first sent you to the Senate on my behalf."

"Yes, well…" She nearly cringes at the memory. "I have little patience for the posturing of politicians."

"Yet you're an assistant for one."

"A position you personally recommended me for and one I've questioned since the beginning," she replies in the same dry tone, challenging his gaze.

His smile widens in response, but in such a way that immediately puts her on edge. Out of place, she thinks, instantly more aware of how close he's standing.

"A position you've done well in, no?" He takes a few casual steps away from the railing, towards his seat. "You've yet to prove yourself unfit for the job, despite the peculiarity of it. Truly, it saddens me to think that you still question my actions."

It's an offhanded comment and harmless in the context of their conversation, but still sets off a warning flag in her head.

"I've only done well because you also have the mind of a scientist," she says evenly, sidelining his last comment. "You don't speak with circular reasoning—a fact which makes you infinitely more preferable than the senators."

"A most warming declaration." He rests a palm against his heart in exaggeration and twists around to face her. The curve of his smirk turns sly. "Insomuch that I would return the sentiment. As far as my experience with previous assistants goes, I find your presence as ofttimes welcome in comparison."

"Ofttimes?" She repeats dryly. "I can only wonder at the times it isn't."

"Oh, I'm certain you know when your presence is and isn't welcome. You would not have survived so long as my assistant otherwise."

His words make her pause as she goes over them a second time in her mind. She isn't sure if she's meant to take his statement literally or not, and her hesitation shows. Ardyn gives a crooked smile as he catches her sudden wariness. "Unfortunately," he laments with a sigh, "the others had quite a few irritating habits that I simply couldn't stand."

"Dare I ask if my tendency to pester you to finish paperwork is among those."

"A minor inconvenience," he waves it off, "and one I can certainly overlook on most occasions."

Casnia shakes her head with a huff, but doesn't comment further, and is relieved when he also drops the topic.

The flight deck goes silent save for the pinging of the terminals and the hum of the airship. The captain on the deck below them gives no indication as to whether or not they listened to the conversation, and Shiva's cadaver is far enough away that the negative effects of her presence have also passed.

Ardyn brushes his shoulders of some lint, and out of the corner of her eye Casnia sees him idly run a hand through his hair and rearrange his hat. She once again finds it odd that he gave no indication of Shiva's influence, but files the peculiarity in the back of her mind for another time.

Their previous conversation sparked her attention, though, and he seemed receptive enough, so she is keen on continuing it. "You are correct that most Graleans view the Cosmogony as a religious text," she says smoothly after he's settled. "Not all of Niflheim shares our views, but we are hardly a religious people. Most of us refuse to take the text seriously simply because of that one reason."

"An assertion leading me to assume you believe otherwise."

Her lip twitches. Ardyn has a way of knowing her words before she speaks them, and she's not sure if she's thankful or wary that he can read her like an open book. "I only believe that there must be more options available to us."

"A sentiment others have probably shared, and yet the powers of the Oracle remain as the only method of curing the afflicted." He sounds reproachful, and a glance at him confirms it. "The plague is hardly a novel occurrence, Miss Caldus. If another solution exists, do you not believe it would have already been discovered?"

"And when was the last extensive investigation of the disease?" She returns immediately, folding her hands behind her back and squaring her shoulders as she turns to face him. "Niflheim's priority for the past few centuries has been global expansion, and Lucis already has their solution—what is written in the Cosmogony. Nobody is searching for answers… and why should they, I suppose, if they believe the solution already exists."

Ardyn rests his chin in his hand, but despite looking at her, doesn't appear as engaged as before. "You speak of the perils of complacency."

"Precisely so. It's an issue I've brought up before."

"And I remember as much, though it's several years past now. Though I now find myself wondering—why not act on the matter yourself? Certainly you have the means to do so at your disposal."

She smiles thinly, having heard the question before. "Obligation, primarily."

"To your family?"

"To the empire," she corrects. "But… yes. To my family as well." What's left of it, she thinks, glancing away from him. Her dislike for the Astrals went beyond a mere preference of historical narrative. The victory over Shiva came with costs.

Ardyn watches her quietly from under the rim of his hat, no doubt picking up on her shift in mood. Whatever he is going to say—or if he had a comment to begin with, Casnia isn't sure—is cut off by the captain coming up the stairs.

"We'll be arriving in twenty minutes," he reports, eyeing the two of them briefly before returning to his post.

Ardyn tips his hat in acknowledgment, but keeps his gaze levelled on Casnia. This time, however, she isn't as keen on restarting the conversation as before. Something passes over his face and he leans back into his seat, steepling his hands and returning to the relaxed posture she found him in when she first entered.

"Perhaps it's for the best that you don't pursue that particular project," he eventually says. "After all, there are many other goals to pour your efforts into—the Diamond Weapon being one of them, as I hear. Not as groundbreaking as your aspiration, but a monumental project all the same."

It's as blatant of a subject change as she's ever heard him give, and Casnia almost finds the offer consoling. But she's never heard of him comforting anyone before, and she expects that it isn't his intention, so she simply takes his words at face-value. Instead, she gives him a wry smile and a knowing look. "There are some things that simply require doing."

There's a pause as Ardyn picks up on her lack of clarification. He returns a sardonic smile of his own, and she catches something akin to approval flash in his eyes. "Indeed there are."

.

A/N: As far as everyone is concerned, MT's are powered by some mix of advanced technology, and some additional component which harnesses magic that Ardyn introduced. (Which got him his position in the empire.) People in the research division and Niflheim's military know generally that daemons are somehow involved in the process, but otherwise don't know the details. Only Verstael, Ardyn, and the highest circle of the Emperor's confidants (like his sons and his Generals) know that the process involves harvesting daemons and turning them into an energy source.

Only Ardyn knows that daemons used to be people. No one knows that the Starscourge turns people into daemons—they're either cured by the Oracle as soon as they're infected, or they die and are buried before they complete the transformation and become reanimated.