sarahfiona

[sarahfiona]

Goodbye

The house was dark and cold. Ceruleum supply was as tight as the food stores. The only light came from a small, fire-aspected crystalset in the lantern next to the bed. Shining from the aether that Nanre had poured into it. Casting a soft, steady orange glow.

Nanre sat beside it. Clutching the had of the old man laying in bed. He was emaciated, little more than skin and bones. His breathing was raspy. Labored. The thin blanket that covered him rising and falling. Skin pale.

She smiled as the man’s eyes opened. Crisp, blue eyes looking to Nanre. Still sharp despite his age.  A smile pulled at his thin lips. Hand weakly grabbing Nanre’s. Fingers intertwined.

“Kit,” he rasped. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” Nanre said softly. She took the cup of water from the table. Holding it to his lips so he could take a few sips. “Got in last night while you were sleeping. Captain gave me permission to leave the fort after your letter arrived.  How are you feeling, dad?”

“Like every breath is being borrowed from someone else. Where’s your mother?”

“Sleeping on the couch,” Nanre set the cup back on the table. “Why didn’t you tell me the food stores had gotten so low? I could have done something.”

“It’s a tough winter for everyone, kit.  Blight took the last greenhouse,” her father replied with effort. “Tell me there aren’t shortages at the fort.”

Nanre sighed. Her own body was gaunt with a hunger that gnawed at her soul. Nowhere near as bad as her father, she could still fight if necessary. Which was more than a lot of soldiers. Half of the fort were on light duty to conserve food. Even so, it was believed they’d be on starvation rations well before the trade passes with the rest of the Garlean Republic opened.

“Thought as much,” he chuckled.  “Did you bring it.”

“Yes,” Nanre reached into the pocket of her white armored jacket. Pulling out a small, black ceramic vial. She set it on the bedside table. “Do you want me to get mom,” she asked. Struggling to keep the emotions from her voice. Her hand tightened around her father’s.

He shook his head. “Your mom and I have said our goodbyes. Every night.  This is our time, little kit. You and me. We’re a long way from Golmore, ain’t we?”

“Far as we can get,” Nanre smiled.

His own smile grew. “I am proud of you, Nanre. You have grown into a true daughter of the ice. The Republic is lucky to have you. One day,” he paused to take several struggling breaths. “One day you will see a new Republic. Without hardship. All this,” he waved a hand around the room. “Will be a distant memory.”

“I’d rather a future with you, dad,” Nanre whispered. Tears rolling down her cheeks.

“Not with your long life,” her dad laughed. “I will miss you, kit. Take care of your mother for me.”

Nanre nodded. She picked up the vial and took out the small cork. Holding it to her father’s lips. The liquid was pungent and sweet. He swallowed it with a dramatic smack of his lips.

“It won’t take long,” Nanre said softly.

Her father lifted a frail hand to her cheek. Wiping the tears away.

“Thank you, little kit,” he said. The hand dropped to his side. Body relaxing as the gentle poison did its work. “Remember me, my lovely daughter. I will be waiting for you on the other side of the life stream. I love you.”

“I love you too, daddy,” Nanre leaned forward to kiss her father’s cheek. Gripping his hand tightly.  She sat silently as he fell asleep. His breathing eased. Slowed. Stopped.

Nanre stood. Pulling the blanket up to cover her father’s face. She turned, taking a small stuffed rabbit from the dresser. Hurrying out into the living room. Her shoulders shrugging the armored coat off. Letting it fall to the floor.

Her legs folded as she settled to the rug in front of the couch where her diminutive mother slept. Clutching the stuffed rabbit to her chest. Staring into the dark hearth.  It was only after she felt the familiar touch of her mother’s hand silently stroking her right ear that she allowed herself to cry.

[sarahfiona]

First Day of School

“Why do I have to wear this stupid fucking thing!”

Nanre smiled as the invectives poured forth from the back room of her office.  Jaliqai was in fine form for her first actual day at the Academy and the stream of Xaelan curses and promises of violence flowed without interruption. She still had a bruise from where the little Au Ra had bitten her when Nanre had tried to shove her into a shower.  

She leaned back against the comfortable chair behind her desk. Setting the book she had been reading down on the desk. One hand rising to pinch the bridge of her nose. Nanre had been giving the kit time to vent but class was at hand and the time to allow her to indulge had passed.

“It is a requirement of the school,” Nanre raised her voice to be heard in the back. Interrupting a creative suggestion about the mother of the person who had designed the student uniform and an amorous mammoth.  “Just put the damn thing on and shut up. You are about out of time.”

“That’s another thing,” Jaliqai’s voice rose another shrill octave. “Clocks! Suns up, do chores. Travel. Suns down, time to fuck. Why do these fucks feel the need to organize their day into little blocks of time so stupid that they need to invent a device to track it!”

The door to the back of the office swung open.  Jaliqai stormed out. The petite Xaela had traded her leathers for the peacock blue and school jacket and off-white sweater. A bow had been tied messily about her neck. The snow white pleated skirt had been pulled up a bit too high. Leaving a long stretch of caramel skin and black scales visible. She had pulled on a pair of comfortable looking flats with ribbon criss-crossing the ankles.

“Last I checked the tribe had sundials,” Nanre rose from her seat and came around the desk. Ignoring Jaliqai’s glare as she fixed the neck bow with dextrous fingers. 

“Those are stupid too,” Jaliqai grumped. Unwilling to concede the point. “Hey,” she exclaimed as Nanre pulled her skirt down.  “What? Eorzeans have something against legs?”

“It shows plenty enough without you hiking the waistband to your chest. Decorum counts here. You do not see me strutting about the place in Vieran garb, do you,” Nanre made a few more adjustments to her god-daughter’s appearance. Pausing as she examined the blood red X that marred the woman’s face.  “I thought you were going to get rid of that.”

“I used makeup,” Jaliqai shot back, a bit heated. “Best you’re gonna get. Unless some asshole gets handsy. Then I’ll redo it with his blood.”

“You will do no such thing,” Nanre cuffed her on the back of her head. Quickly dodging away from the kick Jaliqai aimed at her. “You will report it to me, or another member of the faculty, and let them deal with it. Absolutely no bloodletting.”

“You didn’t mind it last time you visited the tribe,” Jaliqai snarled.  She drew a knife and lunged at Nanre. More testing her limits than anything else. As expected, Nanre handily disarmed her. Then backhanded her hard enough that Jaliqai spun around. 

“No knives. No weapons of any kind outside of sparring and classes. For fuck’s sake, Jali, you are here to learn. Not murder people.”

“Fine,” Jali threw her arms up in disgust. She proceeded to remove several small throwing daggers that she had secreted about her uniform. Depositing the small arsenal on Nanre’s desk.  

“Thank you,” Nanre grabbed her by the shoulders and proceeded to physically shove her out the door. “Get going. Room 26.  Try to be polite.  Or at the very least not bite anyone.”

“I promise nothing,” Jali replied as she walked down the hall. One hand held up, middle-finger extended at Nanre.  

Nanre sighed and closed the door.  She returned to her desk. Sitting down and placing her forehead on the desk itself. “Fuck,” she groaned. “That girl will be the death of me.”