Originally Posted by Tales from the Calamity: The Walker's Path
Gradually, the conversation slowed. No longer could they postpone the matter at hand, for the hour of reckoning was upon them. “So...what now?” Minfilia began.
Louisoix shook his head. “Now we must part ways. Where I go, you cannot follow.”
The Archon’s plan was to summon the Twelve using forbidden arts known only to him. With their combined strength, he was certain that he could prevent the fall of the lesser moon. Such strength, however, posed a threat in itself. Should Eorzea’s patron deities assume physical form, it seemed more than likely that they would be prone to the same appetites as the gods of the beastmen. Should that prove the case, their mere presence would bleed the land of life. And so Louisoix would instead call upon a fraction of the Twelve’s power—enough to stay Dalamud’s descent, and no more.
“It seems a fine balance to strike. Are you certain you can do it?”
Louisoix’s voice was distant. “Mayhap not. But the Twelve cannot be suffered to set foot upon Eorzean soil.” And then, head bowed, he told her the rest.
No. Minfilia shivered, suddenly feeling weak and cold. She had to fight the urge to rub her arms. “Is there truly no other way?”
“None half as reliable.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “If I do not return, the others will look to you. You must be prepared to lead them.”
But I am not ready. She turned away, closing her eyes in a bid to stem the tears. “Do they know what you intend?”
“They know enough.” He stepped forward. “Darker days lie ahead. But know that where there is darkness, there will always be light.” His voice was soft and reassuring. A father’s voice. “You will see the truth of this, Minfilia, when one who bears the light comes to stand before you. One who is gifted, like you. Together, you will greet the dawn.”