Author's Note: Obviously, this story is pure spoilers for Shadowbringers so proceed at your own risk. Understanding of the expansion is a necessity for clarity, however, as many of the scenes are taken from game cutscenes but I do not cover every single moment. In this story, the Warrior of Light is a female Seeker of the Sun Miqo'te with black hair and silver-gray eyes. Her name is pronounced soo-LEE-yuh lay-yuh.

S'liya Lhea stared at the ceiling of her inn room at the Pendants, sprawled across her bed with the covers kicked off. She was unusually warm, even with the open window letting in a nice, cool breeze. She briefly wondered if the absorbed light of two Wardens had something to do with it or if it was just the weather of the First.

She sighed as she flopped onto her side and looked at the dark room, moonlight brightening the space enough to clearly see all of the furniture and decorations. Of all the thoughts to occupy her and keep her from sleep, only one was at the forefront of her mind: the Ascian called Emet-Selch. And not because he was an Ascian that had followed her to the first. Not because he was the architect of myriad designs to rejoin the worlds. Not because he was dangerous, not because he was her enemy, and not because he had announced his desire for cooperation between them.

The only thing she could not stop thinking about was how her heart had jumped inside her chest that first moment their eyes met.

S'liya replayed the moment over and over again, trying to figure it out. She had been feeling such relief upon finding the Crystarium at peace when she heard those soft-soled footsteps drawing closer. She turned and there he was, a tall figure casually strolling toward them, dressed neck to toe in black robes trimmed with white fur and accented by red sashes and gold ornamentation. His short, wavy brown hair had a streak of white on one side, framing the orb centered on his forehead that told her that, somehow, a Garlean had come to the First.

She tensed, brows furrowing. How? And then she looked into his pale-yellow eyes and her heart began beating like a battering ram against a barricaded door.

Her first thought was that it was a warning of some kind—a premonition upon finding a Garlean in the First. But that theory didn't entirely make sense, as she knew he was Garlean before meeting his gaze. Later, when he had revealed himself, she decided it must be because he was an Ascian, but she had never had such a premonition before. Why would she suddenly start having them?

Then, of course, there was the knot that had appeared in her gut when Thancred insisted Emet-Selch go home and admit defeat, and he had coolly countered her Scion friend's rage.

"Happy to let me go, are you?" Emet-Selch calmly asked. "Because the murderous glint in your eye suggests otherwise. Indeed, it is enough to make me think better of confronting you alone." There was nothing in his tone that suggested he actually believed he was outnumbered. He eyed them like they were petulant children. "Look, it did cross my mind to simply side with Vauthry and kill you all." He shrugged. "But that's no different than what Lahabrea did. And we all know how well that ended for him. And so…"

S'liya was so taut with tension that she wasn't entirely prepared for when he began walking toward her. Her friends behind her all took a step back but she was grounded, heart picking up speed as Emet-Selch slowly walked toward her.

"…while it is liable to be troublesome," the Ascian continued, "I have settled upon a different approach…" He stopped in front of her and was so tall that she had to tip her head up to maintain eye contact. He grinned and twisted at the waist, lowering himself to be eye-level with her as he said, "Cooperation!"

He was so close to her that she could clearly make out the details of his face, could reach out and touch the wavy hair that fell across his forehead, see the tiny pearl swinging from his golden earring. She held her breath.

"I will not raise a hand to hinder your hunt for the Lightwardens," he promised. "If you desire it, I will even lend you my knowledge and strength."

S'liya sighed again and tried to scrub the frown off her face that the memory had created. Her heart had even started to thump harder upon remembering his face so close to hers. She twisted onto her other side, her long, black hair tangling uncomfortably around her shoulders. She had attempted to braid it before bed to keep it out of her way but it had mostly come undone.

She stared at the brick wall for thirty seconds before she grunted and hopped out of bed. She went to the dresser, plopped down, and frustratedly brushed out her hair then tried to braid it again. Normally, Alisaie or Tataru did it for her, but Alisaie had been too busy and Tataru was back in the Source…

S'liya's hands dropped to her lap as she stared glumly at her reflection. Her silver eyes stared back, the scar on her cheek stark in the moonlight, slicing through her Miqo'te facial markings. It had been five years she had been on Eorzea and with the Scions. It had been difficult to make a connection with any of them at first. It wasn't until after Haurchefant's death that she allowed the others close to her heart, that she viewed them as friends. And now she found she missed them. Missed the little moments, like Tataru humming as she gently brushed and braided S'liya's hair.

She pushed away from the dresser and went to the window, breathing in the fresh air. The night sky glittered beautifully. It had never occurred to her that she took such a sight for granted, not until coming to the First. But after everything she had seen and faced, she stared up at the night sky with a new appreciation, a new sense of wonder.

A cool breeze brushed up against her skin and she closed her eyes, inhaling deep. The Ascian's yellow gaze flashed in her mind and her heart slammed against her ribcage. She gasped and her eyes flew open to find stars winking at her.

Something in his eyes was familiar to her. She had never seen them before but she felt she knew them.

"Our objective is the same as it ever was—though I daresay you do not know our motive."

Something in his voice plucked a chord inside of her, and yet she was positive the sound was no more recognizable to her than any stranger's.

"Just once…might we not seek to find common ground?"

Had she known him under some other guise? Had they fought before? She didn't' think so but…what other explanation was there?

"So come. Shed your preconceptions. See beyond the unscrupulous villains you take us for."

Something in his words had made her want to believe him. Or was he just telling her what he knew she wanted to hear?

"When all is said and done, we may find ourselves pleasantly surprised. The proud discoverers of a path of cooperation rather than opposition."

As she debated the mystery of his familiarity, his words looped endlessly between her ears. He was right in that he and his kind had been taken for nothing more than villains, unscrupulous to say the least. But when he admitted his discomfort at being in the presence of a "famed Asian-slayer", she couldn't help but see a parallel between them.

And she had realized with a pang of shame that she did not know their motive, had been ready to attack him for merely appearing before her—all on the assumption that he wanted to kill her first. But "that was no different than what Lahabrea did," he had said. So, poisoned though it may be—and she would be a fool to think otherwise—the Ascian called Emet-Selch had come bearing an olive branch.

S'liya rested her head against the window sill with a soft thunk and tried to make sense of it all, but she always dead-ended at deception.