While he and the others tend to the black-masked Ascians, Thancred bids you join Y'shtola at Anamnesis Anyder as a precautionary measure. To get there, you will need to secure a boat at Venmont Yards─just as soon as you've doled out Tataru's bread, that is.
At Venmont Yards, a shipwright recognizes you at once and happily agrees to ready a boat for you.
※In the event that you leave the instance, you may reenter by speaking with the idle shipwright.
To your dismay, you arrive at Anyder to find Y'shtola unconscious. Before you can go to her aid, however, Elidibus appears and spirits her away. If you want your comrade back, it seems you must treat the Ascian to a demonstration of your strength. With no other recourse, you grit your teeth and prepare to enter the aetherial stream.
You ride the aether to emerge in Emet-Selch's phantom Amaurot, where Elidibus instructs you to fight your way to the Capitol. The trial pits you against recreations of myriad faces from your past, and at the last the Ascian himself enters the fray in the guise of Ardbert─yet it soon becomes plain that even he is overmatched.
No sooner does your trial conclude than Y'shtola arrives at your side, having apparently freed herself. Gazing upon Elidibus with a mixture of pity and scorn, she proceeds to expose him for what he truly is: a primal, granted strength by the desire for salvation. Thus has he sought to inspire the masses to rise up as Warriors of Light. Unmoved, the Ascian coolly confirms Y'shtola's theories, but when she subsequently questions whether the many voices that sustain him have irrevocably changed his own, his expression hardens. No matter how much he should forget, he declares, he will always remember his duty. With that, he vanishes, but not before serving notice of his intent to gain the power to defeat you.
The danger now passed, you finally have the chance to apprise Y'shtola of recent events. Having listened to your tale, she goes to collect her possessions from Anyder in preparation for your journey to Eulmore.
Mayest thou, child? Thou must! ...That said, though I personally disagree with the consensus, I do nonetheless advise thee to temper thine expectations.
Though it rarely darkened our dining table at home, I can attest that it was standard fare at the Studium. Indeed, a slice was never far from our peers' hands.
What I believe my colleagues are trying to say is that we appreciate the gesture. Tell Tataru we'll do our best to return before she's forced to seek further supplementary employment.
I am your enemy, and you mine. Our goals are in conflict, and we are fated to clash.
Or had you hoped that feigned sympathy and false understanding would cast your crimes in a less reprehensible light? That I would come to look upon you as a friend?
You who have slaughtered my people. Who would tear down everything we have built.
You do not deny it, then. Very well, let us change the cast of this trial. You will know what you have stolen from us.
Faces you know and loathe, all. Let your hatred burn, and strike them down with all your might.
With such ease yet again. You did always grow stronger with every battle.
It seems it will take more than those monsters to leave an impression upon you. Or mayhap you simply fail to understand my meaning. Not that it matters. No, I have dealt with countless heroes, and always it ends the same way. No amount of reasoning will bridge our differences ─ will result in happiness for all. Whatever your reasons may be, I cannot be bound by them. I can but put faith in my own beliefs, and fight for them with all my being.
What will you say?
You're wrong. We can always strive for understanding - for compromise.
There is no saving your comrade this time. All you can do is cut off the serpent's head.
And as simple as that, a thousand-year war is brought to its conclusion.
But every end marks a new beginning. And for heroes such as you, there is only ever conflict.
How are you enjoying the walk down memory lane? I daresay there will have been a few individuals for whom you harbor deep feelings. Whose passing caused you keenest grief.
That is what our people are to us. An irreplaceable existence that can ill be lost. I must─I will save them. For they are my... My...
Then you will be all too familiar with the fickleness of mankind.
We change. We forget. And what little we do remember becomes twisted and fragmented over time. For which reason, you deem us unfit to carry on your legacy.
But are you yourself free of these foibles? As the last witness of the Final Days, do you remember everything that was lost? Or even the things you cared about?
A primal is shaped by the hope that fuels it. Even should this hope be something as simple as the world's salvation, it is the collective desire of innumerable disparate souls crying out for deliverance.
Having drawn your strength from such a cacophony of voices, can you truly be sure you still speak with your own?