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secret-engima · 5 years ago

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i sent you an ask a while ago about cor vs nyx time traveling chaos and you mentioned them BOTH going back which immediately made me think of the possibility of them going back as like, twin LCs

No.

NO.

DON’T MAKE ME MAKE A NEW AU.

*screams off into the ether*

*comes back*

ALRIGHT FINE BUCKLE UP LADIES AND GENTS AND TUMBLR DENIZENS I HAVE A NEW TWIN AU AND I’M RAMBLING.

-Nyx and Cor don’t MEAN to time-travel. Either of them. They just kinda .... do?

-They both wake up in the same clearing, with the words of the Astral that dumped them here (Ramuh) in their ears, sit up and realize they aren’t alone.

-Things are ... kinda stiff between them at first. They don’t know what’s going on, or where they are. All they remember is their respective lives before getting snatched by Ramuh.

-They at least know who the other is, and compare notes on what happened as they wander the definitely-not-ravaged-by-the-Long-Night wilds. Nyx is more than a little surprised to realize that his mirror double is Cor the Immortal, but that’s not ... the WEIRDEST thing going on right now. So.

-No. The weirdest thing going on right now is that they are both like- SIX YEARS OLD. And that they now look identical. Both of them are blue-eyed (Cor’s shade of blue, which irritates Nyx because why couldn’t he keep his own eye color at least?), with wispy black hair that is 100% Nyx’s, and cheekbones that belong to neither of them.

-Also magic.

-Cor is already quietly hitting his head against a tree before Nyx figures out what the clues all add up to.

-Nyx is not a happy camper when he realizes what has happened (read: when Cor explains it in between blistering language a Furia would blush at).

-Also Nyx still has the scars from his Death-By-Ring. Rippling, branching scars running up his arm and along his cheek and temple on that side of his face. They’re white and “old” but still very, very noticeable.

-Cor and Nyx exchange stories as they wander the wilds, murdering wildlife that tries to eat them and hiding from the daemons at night (they both don't sleep well, because they’re one, children, two, Nyx has night terrors of dying, and three, Cor is terrified that if he goes to sleep he’ll wake up to find the sun gone.

-They finally reach civilization after about a month of bonding in the wilds over Shared Trauma and plans to change fate (Nyx is NOT HAPPY about the Prophecy KTHANKS HE DIDN’T DIE JUST FOR BAHAMUT TO KILL THE YOUNG KING AND PRINCESS) depending on where they are in the past.

-The civilization they find is Hammerhead, and the newspaper they snitch and huddle over tells them the year is 728. One year before Mors dies.

-Nyx manages to hiss the “What the-” in a non-child friendly phrase right as Cid finds them and startles them by asking where their parents are. Since a Startled Nyx is a Warptastic Nyx, there goes the bloodline secret in 0.02 seconds.

-Cor could Strangle™ Nyx if he wasn’t already 120% done with the time-travel thing and already planning to be a tiny prophecy smashing gremlin. Getting a speed ticket to Citadel via Cid, who will take them to Regis rather than Mors, is the safest option he could hope for honestly.

-So yea Cid collars the scruffy, underweight, dressed-in-rags-and-animal-skins twins and calls Regis to yell at him and that’s how Regis learns he is a dad of two Smol Feral 6 year olds at age 22.

-Regis drives out to Hammerhead with Clarus and COR so that his father doesn’t learn about this JUST yet and Time!Cor has a long moment of dysphoria staring at his Angry Teenage Self. While the Cor’s hold a staring contest, Nyx is a mess because the king he saw die is THERE and thoroughly convinced he’s Nyx’s DAD and Nyx CANNOT DEAL kthanks. Regis asks for their names and Nyx blurts out the first ones he can think of that aren’t Obviously Owned Already (Romulus and Remus and no Cor is NEVER going to forgive Nyx for that) and Regis is just- Regis is an Overwhelmed Die inside because KIDS. HE HAS KIDS. TWO TINY FERAL SIX YEAR OLDS WEARING ANIMAL FUR. ONE OF THEM IS TRYING TO BITE COR (admittedly Cor started it, COR STOP THAT). A few questions reveals they’ve been on their own in the wilds for “a while” using their magic and Regis is even MORE of a die.

-The question of where their mother is, where their other relatives are, is answered by Romulus (Cor) shutting down entirely and Remus (Nyx) hunching and shivering and whispering one word.

-That word is “Nifs”.

-Regis has to turn around and go pace in the parking lot with heat waves shimmering off his shoulders before he stops seeing red.

-Regis takes them home, Cid goes with because he and Regis may be on rocky terms but Cid does love Regis, and he loves kids, and he doesn’t trust Mors to “take this well” as far as he can throw the adamantoise.

-Cid is right.

-Mors does not take it well At All.

-Mors says some ... things that horrify Regis, because he would NEVER have thought his father capable of sinking so low. Makes demands about the children Regis has “created out of wedlock”. One of those demands is that they cannot be heirs and they must never be revealed to the court, they must be taken away and hidden somewhere to preserve Regis’s image and the “public trust”. Regis has no intentions to do this, obviously but Romulus, who has been spacing into the distance trying to astral project as a means of not crying his eyes out at the sight of a living Regis and Clarus, senses Mors’ hands reaching for Remus (his-his-his his only friend his only companion who understands his only safety for the last month his BROTHER HIS TWIN) and

-Cold hands cold magic demands-demands-demands. A leash in another’s hands, the burning apathy of a blacksmith beating a living weapon into shape, the taste of his own blood in his mouth as he trains-trains-trains and is found wanting.

-Cold hands cold magic reaching reaching touching touching burning burning engraving knowledge into his being his core his SOUL

-The knowledge forged in his spine-heart-soul-mind written in his blood on the ground and his scars in the mirror.

-Better to die than be a failure.

-He

-S N A P S.

-By the time he comes back to himself, it’s to Remus holding him tight around the waist making shushing noises while Romulus presses them both into a corner, his back to Remus and the taste of blood (not his blood he knows what his blood tastes like this isn’t it who’s blood is this-) in his mouth as he clutches at a sword too big for his tiny body, a silver armiger bristling like spines. He has no memory of how he went from glaring at the wall while Regis and Mors argued to huddling here in the corner with his magic screaming around him in blades and spitting flakes of ice.

-There is no sign of Mors in the room.

-Regis is there. Regis and Clarus on the far side of the room, trying to talk to him, and something tells him they’ve been talking for a while.

-It’s Cor, his younger self, his previous self, that he locks eyes with from across the room, and it’s Cor who looks murderous in his understanding as he briskly orders Regis and Clarus and Cid out of the room.

-The silence when they leave is heavy.

-Cor settles down on the farthest side of the room, his sword propped on his shoulder and his shoulders intentionally relaxed. He’s treating Romulus like a frightened animal, an abused animal, and it’s working more than he wants it too.

-The adult part of Romulus curses his lack of control, how being in a younger body effects his actions so much more than he wants it to.

-The rest of him doesn’t care.

-It takes an hour for Romulus to finally drop the Armiger, but he doesn’t move from the corner, or acknowledge Remus trying to nudge his way free of the corner.

-It takes another 30 minutes for Cor to deem Romulus “present” enough to ask, “Is he still alive?” The man who hurt you. The man who Mors reminded you of.

-Romulus just laughs until his little body starts to cry. It’s answer enough.

-Cor becomes their only adult touchstone for a while. They stay in the massive royal suite (Regis’s suite, Romulus knows from years of experience and Remus from the occasional guard duty). Regis doesn’t come in, but Romulus can sense him at the door a few times, and Cor’s phone is constantly dinging with messages that are probably from Regis or Clarus.

-When Cor finally lets another adult into the suite again (bristling protectively the entire time), Romulus and Remus find out that their timeline? Yeah. It already got thrown out the window.

-Regis comes in.

-He’s wearing the Ring.

-Romulus stares, Remus doesn’t know better to realize what is wrong with that picture. There is something hard in the set of Regis’s shoulders, something weary and protective and ... jaded. Jaded like Regis hadn’t been until years after Mors death when Regis finally dug out the deepest, nastiest secrets of his father’s reign.

-”Is he dead?” Romulus asks numbly.

-Regis follows his gaze to the Ring, and his expression shifts to surprise, then a black sort of anger, then a careful, tired gentleness, “No. But his health was failing. So I ... convinced him ... to step down. He won’t be coming near you again. Not unless you ask.” Regis’s voice cracks and there is a love and a pain in his magic as it tentatively wraps around the twins that makes Romulus realize Just What Regis thinks is the source of Romulus’s violent panic attack, “No one will come near you or touch you unless you ask first.”

-And something in Romulus keens, just a little, at the reassurance of those words. His issues aren’t what Regis thinks they are but ... it’s a relief. Even though his time-table is now even shorter with Regis having put on the Ring and become king a year early .... it’s a relief. To know that Mors won’t come near him or Remus again.

-Romulus doesn’t bother to stop his tears (this is his king, his sword-brother, his best friend, his FATHER of both lifetimes even if this is the first one in blood) as he tentatively steps forward all the way to where Regis is kneeling.

-He can feel Regis shake with suppressed tears as he carefully wraps his arms around Regis’s waist and whispers thank you.

-He’s surprised when Remus joins him, because the glaive only knew Regis as king, but there is a loyalty, a grateful devotion in the man turned boy turned brother that is so deep and vibrant it rings in the air in his magic. A loyalty that could so easily turn into love just like the unconditional, all-powerful love settling on their shoulders like a blanket as Regis oh so tentatively rests a hand on their heads.

-Somewhere in the future that never will be again, the gears of prophecy groan and crack.

#Secret Engima Rambles #Melodies and Manuscripts #Time Travel Twins verse #Cor Leonis #nyx ulric #tw: rape #very very obliquely implied #romulus and remus #ye #ffxv au #time travel #long post

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faelune-home · 3 years ago

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FFXIV Write #19: Freebie day 3

(a/n: Another freebie day piece, which I’m glad to have gotten out since I didn’t have any ideas come to me for days 17 or 18. I technically got the start of this idea for another prompt beforehand, but I didn’t feel as fitting, so I put it to the side and sat on it until this freebie day came along.

Much like freebie day 2, this one isn’t inspired by a prompt, but instead about me thinking of game events to write about. And the recent Rising came to mind. Just a sweet moment with the Scions having their own remembrance of times past.

No spoilers mentioned in the fic, its mostly just Calamity stuff, altho a character from recent ShB patches is featured here as its own warning. I’d place this post-5.55, around the same time as the Rising event.

word count: 1209)

She brought the scent of Nymeia Lilies back to the Rising Stones with her, imbued into her clothes and spreading further with every twitch of her tail and her ears. And much as in Ul’dah, with the floral perfume no doubt still wafting in the streets as it had done when she had left, the mood turned melancholic, as memories filled the conversation that night.

Memories of loved ones lost, and horrors recalled, all from that dreaded time five years past.

“We were still at the Studium at the time,” Alisaie said, sharing a glance with her brother as similar looks of dark recollection crossed their expressions, “I remember the old observatory was absolutely brimming with people as everyone tried to follow what was happening that day. We were there watching when it happened.”

“The aftermath was harder to take, with limited communications after Dalamud’s fall. With no direct word from those on the frontlines, people were wont to make disparaging comments as they pleased about what had likely happened,” Alphinaud added, which only deepened his sister’s dark scowl.

“I’m not entirely surprised given Sharlayan’s standing when it comes to matters of conflict, and it was known at the time that Eorzea and the Empire were at war when Dalamud fell, perhaps even that one of the Legions had been the cause of the moon’s descent,” G’raha said, “Twas chaos besides on Val as many tried to gather what information we could on the events from our rather limited position. I myself ended up embroiled in some few debates as to how Bahamut came to be within the moon, given that the last known records of the dragon were from the Allagans, and the moon itself only shortly before their demise. Perhaps if we had known or connected the two, some forewarning could’ve been provided.”

“Given that no-one had known the truth of Bahamut’s prison even after all this time, it would’ve taken a miracle for one of your number to have learned it and shared it in time,” Alphianud stated, “We already had our fair share of miracles that day that the Dreadwyrm was able to be stopped in time before more harm could come to the land.”

“By some mysterious yet benevolent circumstance, aye, that he was,” G’raha hummed curiously. The chatter continued, moving past Sharlayan’s stubborn un-involvement, although not without a knowing look passing between the twins, unseen by the others.

“I recall returning to Ul’dah after the worst of it had passed, and while it wasn’t exactly a zen paradise, the people were more pacified than I was expecting in the wake of it all,” Thancred said, “I have all the respect for Her Grace for managing to quell the worst of it, and with only a scant few helpers at her side.”

Turning to Fhara, he then asked her, “And what of your home at the time? I take it they can’t have been that affected by the events, but they surely must’ve seen or heard of it.”

“We did, and didn’t. It was mostly a large shift in the atmosphere; heavy clouds that didn’t quite change for several weeks, and the local fauna was very tense, easily aggravated. Made hunting a bit too dangerous at times,” Fhara frowned, an uneasy knit to her brow as she remembered the anxiety that filled her home at the time, “No-one knew what to make of it all, and some were worried it was pointing to a storm on the way. We turned to prepping for that possibility for a time and making arrangements to stock up on food from traders to wait it out. Of course, that wasn’t quite what ended up happening…”

One of those traders eventually told us what happened; that a great dragon had appeared over Aldenard, raining fire and meteor showers down upon the land, only to then disappear without a trace.” Fhara shook her head, a tiny smile upon her lips but with no humour in her eyes to join it.

“At the time, it was hard to believe. No one really knew if it was real or not, it sounded almost impossible. I was the one taking care of the younger kids in the village in my free time, and they kept asking a lot of questions about ‘the big dragon in the sky’ that all the visiting merchants were talking about. Eventually, the elders told me to treat it like another story, just to calm them down. Even when we learned how true it was and how much happened that day...”

“It must be difficult to reconcile with such things, especially living so far away from where it all happened and having little contact with anyone there,” Y’shtola said with a sympathetic nod toward the other miqo’te, “Tis understandable then that your own could only deal with it through what information they had.” Fhara could only nod back, a wary twitch in her tail as the conversation moved on, the mood lifting yet never losing the sombre tinge it had started with.

The friendly talk continued into the late hours, other Scions joining the conversation in passing as they filtered through the Stones, until the numbers whittled down with many turning in to sleep for the night. Eventually, the only ones left in the room, darkened by night and lit only with a single candle at the table, was Fhara and the twins.

“We should get to bed now,” Fhara stated, stretching as she stood and wincing at a loud crack in her shoulder.

“Aye, Urianger will no doubt come to check on us ere long if we don’t.” Alphinaud turned to his sister, who had made no move even at his mention.

“Sister?” She stirred from her thoughts, eyes turning away from the flickering shadows on the walls to look between her brother and her friend.

“I would like to visit the Burning Wall tomorrow, if that’s alright. Together.” The other two blinked at her suggestion. Although Fhara’s ear flicked in recognition.

“We can do that,” she said with a smile. Alphinaud couldn’t help the confused frown.

“I understand where your sentiment has come from sister, although as for the location, I’m less sure of the significance.”

“It’s nothing to worry about, brother, I assure you. I’d just like to visit and have our own...moment of sorts. The sort of remembrance we can’t do in front of the others. Although I would also ask Urianger if he would like to come along,” Alisaie said. Despite not receiving a proper answer, her brother nodded, an agreement settled between them.

And as he left them for his own quarters, the two ladies held for a moment in the room.

“Just one more request please,” Alisaie asked, in an unusually quiet voice.

“If you happen to meet that bard again before we leave, mayhaps you could get more of that Nymeia Lily perfume for us? I just thought it’d be appreciated for the occasion.” Her request was welcomed with a smile and a gentle pat on her head.

“I’d be happy to.”

The candle was finally blown out and the pair set off for bed, marking the end to a long trip down memory lane, at least for that day.

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #my writing #Scions of the Seventh Dawn #my wol #keeper of the moon miqo'te #fhara laali #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #G'raha Tia #thancred waters #y'shtola rhul #Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Shadowbringers #The Rising

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talesfromtinytonka · 3 years ago

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Prompt 6 - Avatar - The Goldsmith's Mistake

The sun was just beginning to set across the warm Thanalan sky when Dewedain arrived. The man had arrived early, even in spite of his many mistaken turns down the twisting alleyways of Ul’dah to find the place, and so he stood steady next to the locked door. This place was a workshop, he had been told; one that was special and quite secretive, owned and maintained by the goldsmith’s guild. Dewedain smiled to himself in excitement as he awaited the arrival of the guild receptionist. He had worked hard in the past few years under promise of this day’s arrival, and though others had excelled in the flashier aspects of the trade, Dewedain sought to hone his skills towards a more practical aspect of the skillset: a mastery of clockwork movement. After all, Dewedain thought, no one would buy an off-tune music box or an inaccurate timepiece, no matter how sparkly and bejeweled they were made to be. Surely this night would be a reward to the culmination of his efforts.

As Jemime made her way down the narrow alleyway, keys in hand, Dewedain snapped back to attention. “This is it.” He thought, “My very own workshop…” As Jemime gave her greeting and pulled a particular key from the ring, she spoke to him. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here. I have orders from the Guildmaster herself.” Dewedain’s heart leaped as he awaited the words, nodding quickly. Jemime continued. “The Guildmaster has asked me to have you put your skills to the task of fixing a few of the clockwork automatons in this workshop by sunrise. Please lock up when you are finished.” Dewedain stared in confusion for a moment, not quite processing the words. “All this…to fix a few stinking Mammets!?” Dewedain bit his lip as he did his best to hold back his disappointment. His disdain for the creatures was no well-kept secret amongst the guild. When they weren’t breaking his concentration with their obnoxiously loud movement—or cursing, in Gigi’s case—they were constantly breaking down and wasting both time and delicate parts. As Dewedain resigned to his fate and went to grab the key, Jemime stopped him, raising her finger up in the air. “Not yet...before you go in I have a warning from the Guildmaster herself. It is a great honor to work in this particular shop, Dewedain…these are no ordinary automatons. Do not let your curiosity get the better of you, and under nocircumstances are you to unlock the workshop door once more, until the moment you leave. Do you understand?” Dewedain considered the strange rules and agreed to do so, his thoughts still preoccupied with his annoyance at the task in hand.

Jemime handed over the key to him and waited for him to open the door, which he promptly did. Dewedain walked into the workshop, the room much larger and darker than he had imagined it would be. Jemime closed the door as he grabbed a lantern from the wall, turning to lock the door by her instructions. As her footsteps faded from his ears he turned once more, fumbling with the lantern. “How un-ordinary could a couple of stupid Mammets be...” He thought, pulling the mechanism to light the oil within with a fire shard. The lantern roared to life, illuminating a workshop space beset on all sides with shelves and benches. Dewedain looked on at awe with the help of the light, the illumination revealing the true nature of the objects stored within the workshops walls: each shelf contained dozens of clockwork creations, each one uniquely designed from the others. Dewedain walked down the small path cleared between the shelves of the workshop, identifying the ones he could. That one there was of a Moogle, he could plainly tell. That one there was an airship! There were hundreds of these things in here, most of them far beyond the man’s knowledge or recognition. He even spotted a few unfortunate looking designed ones in the back: some manufactured as some form of caricature to the deadly primals he had seen depictions of in paintings, and even one of the dreaded Dalamud! Dewedain lit every candle he could find in the workshop, revealing them in all their glory.

As the man looked upon their craftsmanship with childlike enthusiasm, he suddenly made a realization to himself. “Wait…I have seen these before. These are…clockwork figures commissioned by adventurers!” Minions, he remembered they were called; a new fad made popular by the Scions and their Warrior of Light. Dewedain had not known the guild to be even a partial source of these creations, but as he stood among them and took in their lovingly crafted sights, he could not help but feel his heart begin to swell with excitement anew. “These are certainly no Mammets…anyone willing to put in this level of detail must have a commendably high level of expectation in their functionality…” As the man sat down at a workbench with a number of the objects lined up, he began to feel much better about the task at hand. Grabbing his set of tools and goldsmith spectacles, the man grabbed the closest clockwork minion to him—a Cherry Bomb—and got to work. The inner workings of the automatons, as it turned out, were just as intriguing as their exterior details to the man, though not too difficult to ascertain and troubleshoot. It took only a half hour or so for the man to fix the Cherry Bomb, and he watched with restrained joy as the minion rose in the air, glowing and gyrating with life. Dewedain couldn’t wait to fix the others upon the workbench to see how they acted, and so he resumed his work with speed and precision.

After what seemed like just a few short hours, the man was finally working on his last minion: one of an adventurer that seemed to change in appearance and attitude to mimic the famed Warrior of Light. Dewedain fixed it with relative ease, a parade of Moogle minions dancing and frolicking around his head. As the man turned to the rest of the shelves to put his fixed ones away, he couldn’t help but feel the pangs of curiosity grip his heart. There were still so many upon the shelves that did not need fixing; many of which Dewedain was curious to watch and open up to explore their interactions. As the man idly moved towards a shelf to place this recently fixed “Minion of Light” the Moogle minions flying above him dipped too low, tripping him. Dewedain smacked his head upon the shelf, sending it falling backwards into the next one like a domino effect before sprawling out on the ground. The man groaned in pain, his vision darkening as he heard the strange winding of objects around him.

When Dewedain awoke to the workshop once more, he found it to be in utter chaos. A rancid smell forced him to sit up quickly, only to find that it was a mischievous looking morbol giggling at his reaction before scurrying away. The man watched in horror as many of the minions had come to life, and carried an attitude much like their counterparts: Wolf pups chased coeurl kittens around the floor, a small goobbue sat upon one shelf with an even smaller pudding in its mouth, while the fearsome primals of Eorzea seemed to be arguing and fighting with one another. Dewedain got up to his feet only to find a rather ominous looking Tonberry brandishing a knife mere inches from where his head once laid. The man panicked as he considered what to do, knowing the Guildmaster was certain to have his head if Jemime returned to the workshop to find this. As the man contemplated his options and the disturbingly lifelike nature of some of the automatons’ functionality, a Warrior of Light stepped forth to save the day! Dewedain watched as the minion he had fixed leapt to his aid, smacking the Tonberry with a model sword and knocking the winding key from its back. The automated Tonberry immediately halted, its movements abruptly ending as it stood lifeless on the floor. Dewedain watched as the miniature Warrior of Light turned to the primal minions and held his sword aloft. Others, much to the man’s surprise, soon joined him. Dewedain looked upon their features and recognized them to be lifelike models of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. The man could hardly believe it as a miniaturized recreation of the many battles he had heard rumors of was unfolding before his very eyes!

The miniature troupe of adventurers began their fierce battle with the primal automatons, buying Dewedain the time he needed to gather up the rest. While they felled the tiny nails of Ifrit, Dewedain tracked down the morbol seedling and pulled the key from its writhing mass of tentacles; while they dodged the pushes of Titan’s pebble-like fists across the surface of the workbench, Dewedain broke up the pups and kittens, placing them back upon the shelves he had now returned to their upright position. Garuda flew high above the reach of any of the adventurers, but not high enough to not be plucked from the air by the man while she wasn’t looking. Dewedain let out a sigh of relief as he felt the danger begin to subside from the room, but not before a comparatively miniscule shockwave sent the adventurers flying off the bench, their wind-up keys discarded to the floor. Dewedain turned to find none other than Dalamud itself, an almost cute recreation of Bahamut rising out of the cracked opening of the false moon! The man watched as the figure seemed to breathe a fire that looked all too real to risk touching. “Who the hell thought this was a good idea!?” Dewedain thought, and as the creature moved closer and closer to him he was certain that he would not be freed of the automaton without incurring at least a few burns; burns that Jemime would certainly question upon her return.

As Dewedain took a step back, he felt something begin to climb his back from behind him. The man turned to look, gasping at the revelation of another active minion: that of the famed Louisoix himself! The miniature Louisoix held his trust staff high and fired bolts of magic at the baby Bahamut, causing the Dreadwyrm’s miniature to charge and swarm Dewedain as he panicked. Louisoix stood fast to the man’s shoulder, Dewedain helping to dodge the flames as Louisoix fired missile after missile of arcane magic at the dragon. The fight did not last long as the Dreadwyrm fumbled with the Dalamud model upon his head, one well-placed missile sending it falling to the floor. Dewedain quickly grabbed the wind-up key from the top of its head and collected it, placing it lifelessly on a shelf. As Dewedain picked up the remaining inanimate models and made a final sweep of the workshop for any further signs of active minions, there came a knock on the workshop door. “Dewedain? It’s dawn. You’re not sleeping in there, are you?”

Dewedain dimmed the lights in the workshop and rushed to the door, unlocking it. “N-Not at all, Jemime!” Dewedain stood as firm as he could before the guild receptionist, his sweat covered face trying to remain as convincingly calm as possible. “You…didn’t run into any issues, did you? I know automatons aren’t particularly your favorite…” Dewedain cleared his throat and responded. “N-no trouble at all! They were actually quite interesting…The work was, uh, very easy for me.” Jemime looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “I see…that’s wonderful news, but…are you absolutely certain you ran into no trouble at all?” Dewedain nodded in acknowledgement, feeling the receptionist’s eyes upon him like spotlights. “I see…your dedication is very much appreciated. You’re free to go home and rest now.” Dewedain relaxed his posture and breathed a silent sigh of relief as he turned to head down the alleyway. “Oh, Dewedain? One more thing before you go.” Dewedain stopped and turned to Jemime, a knowing smile forming on her lips. “I’ll let the Guildmaster know to put the Louisoix on your tab.” Dewedain’s heart sank as he looked to himself, the proof of his mistake still standing upon his shoulders protectively.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv

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artisticflutter · 3 years ago

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AU August - Day Thirty: Bad End

So, I have no idea what to do for my free day. Give me a moment to think about it and I’ll be back lol. Also yes, thank you dumb ban, I’m back on the archaic fandom texts.

Series: Final Fantasy IX Rating: M Genre: Romance, Drama, Adventure Pairing(s): Zidagger Summary: Tomorrow they go to Terra to face Garland. Tomorrow… Tomorrow might be his last day. Warning: Spoilers for those who haven’t played the game obviously, connected to Day 12, and contains some lemon zest. Yes, that lemon. Look, it's almost September, gimme a break haha!

He could sleep; or maybe, he didn’t want to sleep. Staring at the red moon astride the blue moon of Gaia, he felt himself shiver.

In the past, he would never tremble at the thought of going hom--... back to Terra, but things had changed surprisingly fast. All those times, he had been simply watching Gaia grow, keeping tabs on Kuja, and making sure everything was on course. Maybe this was just what happened when you could be around actual people instead of - well - no, they were people, but they weren’t ‘alive’ yet as the Black Mages had become. They would if the fusion was completed, but he was having doubts.

Even if the fusion worked, it wouldn’t last. Thousands of years traveling the stars, devouring planets to keep a dead planet ‘living’, but this planet was already alive. Why couldn’t they just live like those on Gaia instead of maintaining the futile pursuit of immortality? And to let Gaia be taken over by Terra now, what would that mean for the people he met, the people he fought, and… her? To be immortal without her, after the smiles, the laughter, the tears, the anger, the…

He placed a hand on his chest and bit his lip, dropping his gaze and shutting his eyes.

Tomorrow, they would go to Terra and face Garland; but tomorrow, it didn’t matter what he would want. Garland’s design was to save Terra - Zidane’s design was to follow his will, and no doubt his defiance would be dealt with swiftly. Though Kuja had been ‘free’, Zidane couldn’t say the same for himself. He never worried about Garland possibly deactivating him somehow, but there was little doubt in his mind that he would leave the capability. The moment he stepped one foot on Terra with this group he’d come to be part of? Garland would know Zidane no longer sought to restore Terra by his method.

Garland would take his soul.

A cold pit settled in his chest and he shook, but he didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or maybe cry.

If he lost his soul, that was it. Years of training, and he really wanted to give it all up for a planet that didn’t birth him yet he’d never felt so alive either.

“Zidane?”

Snapping his head up at her voice, he tried to quell the feeling growing more prominent. He didn’t want to worry her; also, he was supposed to be her protector. He couldn’t do this to her now.

“Dagger? Why are you awake?” he asked, keeping his voice level. “We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

“I know, but I couldn’t bring myself to sleep.”

He watched Garnet - well, Dagger as her alias had long since come to be - cross over the short blades of grass and settle down beside him, tucking her legs up to her chest. Not the most dignified way for a now Queen to sit, but they weren’t in Alexandria. Hell, why would it matter if they were; the social rules royalty often put upon themselves confused Zidane, but whatever. With her sitting besides him he went back to looking at the moons.

“They’re beautiful tonight… the moons, I mean,” she said softly, combing back several strands of her short brown tresses. Silently, Zidane nodded in agreement. Even before everything had begun, he always thought the night sky looked beautiful with the twin moons, but at the moment, he couldn’t say anything. If anything, the evening felt ominous and he could only focus on the red moon. “... Zidane, what’s wrong? You’ve never been this tense before.”

“Nothing’s wrong… in fact, tomorrow, I’ll have completed my original mission by bringing you to Terra.” It drained him to smile and even risk glancing her way. “After that, who knows? Maybe Garland will let me finish off Kuja. He’s outlived his usefulness I’m sure…!”

He would’ve started laughing, but a small hand resting upon made him pause.

“Zidane… please, what’s going on? You haven’t made cruel jokes like that since Lindblum.”

“... Has it really been that long? I could’ve sworn I made one at Ispen’s Castle.”

Looking Dagger’s way, she shook her head. “No, I remember. You were so angry after Kuja survived Alexandria’s destruction… you were also angered when I couldn’t speak.”

His eyes narrowed. Annoyingly, he did remember that - it had been bad enough things had managed to escalate almost to a point in Kuja’s plan, but Zidane had made Garland aware that Kuja had temporarily acquired the Eidolons (look, he would’ve gotten them back if he hadn’t still had control of the Invincible at the time). What made that time worse was trying to figure out his feelings, but his own truth had come to light. Dagger had been furious and blamed him since he could’ve saved her mother if he’d have stopped Kuja sooner - and that was true. He’d gone to Treno to push his feelings aside, regroup, and would’ve kidnapped her again if Kuja hadn’t chosen that moment to attack with Bahamut. The way she clung to him after he saved her and that younger Summoner, Eiko, things had clicked.

And when Dagger couldn’t speak, that was pretty much that first time he literally couldn’t do anything. In that moment, he truly hated his predecessor and himself - for all he could’ve done, but didn’t do, all because he waited for orders when he could’ve acted himself.

If it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have realized that.

His eyes drifted away from her. “... Dagger, if you need to fight me, are you ready to do that?”

“... What?”

His mouth thinned.

“When we go to Terra tomorrow, Garland will know I’ve strayed from our goal.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to protect you anymore once he’s done with me.”

“‘Done with you’? Zidane, what does that mean?” Her hand squeezed his as the fear rose into her tone. “But, bringing me to Terra was your mission. Why would he punish you for that?”

“It’s not for that mission’s failure. I…” Zidane’s voice trailed and he took a moment to breathe. “... I can’t let Garland fuse the planets. If anything, I think it’s time to abandon Terra, but Garland’s will is absolute. He won’t let me live… once he knows I’ve betrayed him too.”

Garland’s will was absolute.

His voice died and silence filled the space between them. Seconds turned to minutes, and in that time, the first thing to change was just how tightly she held his hand. Once several passed before he chanced glancing her way through his bangs. She wasn’t looking his way - her eyes were fixated on the moons, and it was almost beautiful how the moonlight reflected off her silent tears. He didn’t mean to make her cry, but he didn’t know what to say. It was only the truth, and yet, he squeezed her hand back, holding on as much as he could without hurting her.

“You’ve grown, Dagger. I’m sorry I can’t--”

“Don’t…!”

Her sharp and sudden demand silenced him quickly, and he watched as she closed her eyes and tried to fight back more tears. “Please… don’t say you can’t.”

The request left him at a loss of what to say, if he could say anything at all. Honestly, there was nothing he could think of that would comfort her - and lost to his thoughts, the feeling of her lips against his and her tear-stained cheeks pulled him back to reality hard.

Oh…

Their fingers becoming untangled, he brought his hand to rest on her back and draw her in closer, deepening an already desperate and messy kiss.

But that’s what it was, right? She didn’t want to lose him.

He didn’t want to lose her either, but his time was about to run out.

She settled on his lap and he soon fell back.

He supposed if he had to have one final memory of her, he could accept this one - of her hands bare upon his skin, of his hands drawing in each of her curves, their clothes slowly and steadily being stripped away to leave them bare beneath the moons. He thinks her hands grab and scratch with a little more force than intended, but he knows he’s barely any less and wondering if his hands may remember her better than his mind depending on where he touched. Or maybe he could remember the taste? Of her lips as they kissed again, or of her flesh when he lightly bit her throat and chest and moved downward. Zidane could see her crying still as he stole away that last of her physical innocence, but his eyes hadn’t been dry for a while either.

“I love you…”

She said it first - a lump developed in his throat as they rocked together, no space left between them. He couldn’t say it - he wanted to so badly, but the peak came first.

There beneath the moons with only his cloak draped over both of them, Zidane continued to sit holding the exhausted young woman in his arms and lost to slumber. He couldn’t stop gazing upon her because there was nothing more significant to him and his thumb gently cleaning the marks from her face. She didn’t need to cry over him anymore.

“I love you, too…”

But Garland’s will was absolute.

“... I’m sorry.”

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eleamaya · 5 years ago

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Zerith and Cloti Lines & Quotes Parallels

FFVII Original Game, Advent Children (sequel), and Crisis Core (prequel) are written by Kazushige Nojima.... so it’s not surprised to see how he wrote both pairings in similar way as I found these parallels:

Parallel #1: KOIBITO ( 恋人 )

Zack and Aerith

The two characters deeply involved with Aerith were Zack, who would become her lover (koibito), and Tseng, her guardian. (CC: FFVII Complete Guide)

One day, Zack is suddenly landed in a church in the slum. His cheerfulness and dependability capture Aerith’s heart and they’re being in a (koibito) lovers-like relationship. Although they can only see each other periodically, their thoughts keep them close in spirit. (Aerith’s profile, CC: FFVII Ultimania, pg. 22)

Aerith gently embraced Zack, who came back sad. The atmosphere makes them feel like lovers (koibito). (Aerith’s profile, FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania)

Cloud and Tifa

“Is Tifa your girlfriend (koibito)?” (Aerith asking Cloud, FFVII Remake Chapter 8)

There are many dimensions to Tifa’s character. She’s like a mother, also a sweetheart (koibito), and a close ally in battle (Advent Children Reunion Files book, pg. 19~ Nomura’s interview)

Parallel #2: SWEET YOUNG LOVE, WHAT SHE LIKES ABOUT HIM

Aerith about 16 years old Zack:

“He’s strong, kinda funny, and there’s something special about him.” (Crisis Core Chapter 5 - First Date)

Tifa about 14 years old Cloud:

“You were so small then … and cute.” (Original Game scene 116 - Cloud Dark Past)

Parallel #3: THE GIRLS’ DESIRE TO BE WITH HIM, JUST THE TWO OF THEM

Aerith, before Zack went to Nibelheim

Thinking that he would at least be of help to Aerith now, Zack began to make the flower-selling wagon as he had promised to make before. The two struggle to get use to the unfamiliar task, but they relish the happiness of spending time together. When Zack is called for duty, Aerith writes down 23 tiny wishes on a piece of paper and gives it to him. The note was filled with her earnest desire to be with Zack.

(FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania, Crisis Core Story Playback)

Tifa, before Cloud went to Midgar

"It was just an idea, but from the moment it was made, it became an irreplaceable promise. And that night, when Tifa realized that the Cloud she admired was just an ordinary boy, she fell in love with him. The kind of "love" that made her want to be with him, just the two of them. "

(Traces of Two Pasts, a novella written by Kazushige Nojima)

Parallel #4: SHE DRESSES UP FOR THE PROMISE THEY MADE

Zack and Aerith

For when they meet again on their next date, Zack’s specific suggestion was Aerith wearing pink. Aerith–who continued to wait for Zack’s return–starts to wear pink after making this promise (CC: FFVII Complete Guide--Keyword Collection)

Cloud and Tifa

Believing in Cloud’s promise, Tifa’s waiting to see Cloud become a SOLDIER like Sephiroth. Tifa dresses herself in a pretty and sexy look. Does she do that to spirit up herself in preparing for a touching reunion? (Tifa Lockhart Character Profile from CC: FFVII Ultimania)

Parallel #5: SHE ASKED IF HE KNEW A CERTAIN SOLDIER

Zerith: Aerith asked Cloud about Zack in SOLDIER in the Playground (FF7 Remake)

“Did you have any SOLDIER friends? Any war buddies? So Cloud, you were SOLDIER 1st Class, right? Weird. Just that you were in the same rank with the first guy I ever loved.”

Cloti: Tifa asked Zack about Cloud in SOLDIER via mails (Crisis Core)

“Are there any blond guys in SOLDIER? Well, it's just a dream... Any girl would love to have a blond SOLDIER guy protect her when she's in a pinch. I almost forgot. Please don't tell anyone in SOLDIER that I asked about the blond guy. Okay?”

Parallel #6: THEY THINK OF EACH OTHER UNDER THE SKY

Zack and Aerith -- the cloudy & azure sky

Zack think of Aerith: “I wish I could show this sky to…” (Crisis Core DMW Cloud Scene #4: Cloudy Sky)

Aerith think of Zack: “He was like a cloud drifting through the skies. As we peered skyward through the rafters of a heavenless Midgar, we made a promise. And that was the last time we spoke.” (Crisis Core 1st Official Trailer)

Cloud and Tifa -- the starry & night sky

Cloud think of Tifa: “I was just thinking about the past.” (Crisis Core DMW Cloud Scene #3: Starry Night At The Well)

Tifa think of Cloud: “Like the sky that night, the heavens were filled with stars. Did you imagine the sky? The stars were gorgeous. It was just Cloud and I. We talked at the well.” (Original Game scene 116 - Cloud’s Dark Past)

Parallel #7: PROMISE AT THE NIBELHEIM WELL/WATER TOWER

Zack and Aerith -- CC Chapter 013: I Promise

Aerith: Hello… (calling by phone) Zack: Aerith! Aerith: Finally, got through to you! Zack: Ah, sorry about this but I’m in the middle of something right now. I’ll give you a call a little later . Aerith: No. it’s okay. You don’t have to. Zack: I understand. I’ll come visit. Aerith: I’ll be waiting. Zack: I’Il see you. It’s a promise.

Cloud and Tifa -- OG scene 6: A Childhood Promise

Tifa: You said you wanna tell me something. Cloud: This summer… I wanna leave this town to Midgar. I wanna join SOLDIER… like Sephiroth. Tifa: Is it tough being SOLDIER, isn’t it? Cloud: Yeah, I probably could not go back to this town for a while. Tifa: Hey, why don’t we make a promise? Mmm… if you really get famous and I’m ever in a bind, you’ll come save me, alright? Whenever I’m in a trouble, my hero will come rescue me. Cloud: Alright, I promise.

Parallel #8: SHE WON’T BE AFRAID WITH HIM, HE PROMISED

Zack and Aerith -- CC Chapter 8: 23 Little Luxuries

Aerith: “When you come back from your assignment, let’s go sell flowers under the sky together. I won’t be afraid if you’re with me.”

Zack: “Yeah, I’ll go with you. That’s a promise.”

Cloud and Tifa -- OG Scene 136: Understanding

Tifa: “But, it’s alright even if no one comes back. As long as I’m with you… As long as you’re by my side… I won’t give up even if I’m scared.”

Cloud: “Afterall, I promised. That if anything were to ever happen to you, I would come to help.”

Parallel #9: MUTUAL AFFECTIONS/RECIPROCAL FEELINGS

Zack and Aerith

Zack and Aerith meet by chance in a church in the Slums. They become intimate with each other. (FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania Compilation Timeline)

From the boy’s profile

Having fallen into the sector 5 slum church during a mission, Zack has a fateful meeting with Aerith, a young girl who was tending to flowers in the church. They share a “puratonikku koi” / chaste romantic love, satisfied just to be together. Those joyous days seemed like they would last forever… (Zack’s Profile, CC: FFVII Ultimania, pg. 13)

From the girl’s profile

CC shows her meeting and relationship with Zack, and the budding love between them. However, fate would tear the couple apart. (Aerith’s Dengeki Profile)

At that chosen day, she accidentally met Zack, SOLDIER 1st Class, and they were attracted to each other. (Aerith’s Profile, FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania)

The destined encounter with Zack makes them becomes the irreplaceable existence to each other. (Aerith’s profile, CC: FFVII Ultimania)

His cheerfulness and dependability capture Aerith’s heart and they’re being in a lovers-like relationship. (Aerith’s profile, CC: FFVII Ultimania)

Cloud and Tifa

When their companions disperse to the places where people important to them await, Cloud and Tifa, who remain, reveal their feelings for each other together. (FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 198; story summary)

When Cloud and Tifa remain behind alone, in their final hours, together they disclose their feelings for each other. (FF 20th Anniversary Ultimania File 2: Scenario guide, FFVII Story Summary, pg. 232)

From the boy’s profile

Declares that the team should dissolve in the final hours before the final battle, and communicates his feelings together with Tifa, who remains behind at the airship with him. (Cloud’s Profile, FFVII Ultimania Omega, pg. 15)

From the girl’s profile

She ventured into Lifestream together with Cloud. Amidst the course of him trying to ascertain his memories, they became aware of the thoughts/feelings which each other was holding. (Tifa’s Profile, FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania. pg. 42-47)

In FF7, Tifa is the only one who knows Cloud’s childhood, and furthermore, she holds the key to people involved in the story of Nibelheim’s burning down, which is also depicted in CC. She and Cloud came to realize their feelings for each other in the end of the story, and live together in AC and DC.(CC:FFVII Ultimania, Tifa Lockhart Profile)

For many years, Cloud and Tifa have been holding favor for one another. At last facing the impending final battle with Sephiroth, they confirm together their feelings of desire toward partnership. (Tifa’s Profile, FF 25th Memorial Ultimania)

Parallel #10: THEY GO BACK TO WHERE THEY BELONG

Zack and Aerith -- Afterlife

Zack Profile in FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania: In order to help Cloud recover, he assured him from the Lifestream together with Aerith.

Aerith Profile in ACC Dengeki: She joined the Lifestream, but even then she carries on watching over the planet and Cloud. At all times, her first love Zack is always by her side.

Both are mentioned: ...She starts to leave, together with the friend who had given his life to Cloud. Cloud no longer has to suffer in loneliness. And so they too go back to where they belong. Back to the current of life flowing around the planet. (FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania--Revised Edition, ACC Playback)

Cloud and Tifa -- Living World

Cloud Profile in FFVII 10th Anniversary Ultimania: With the help of his friends, he defeated Bahamut SHIN, which Kadaj’s gang had summoned. He defeated Sephiroth after his Advent, and returned to Tifa and the children.

Tifa Profile in ACC Dengeki: At the end of a long struggle, she gently welcomes back Cloud on his return home after settling things with himself.

Both are mentioned: “Inside, I felt one thing was for sure: Cloud and Tifa would be together. Everybody would be living back home where they belonged.” (Kazushige Nojima-the scriptwriter, Advent Children Reunion Files book)

Parallel #11: DESCRIBED AS A SINGULAR ITEM / A PAIR

Zack and Aerith described in ACC

For Cloud, they were people whom he can never forget. The two irreplaceable people; Zack, “who was sent to death because protecting me” and Aerith, “who met a tragic fate as I couldn’t protect her” became “the unforgivable sins” in his heart.

(Advent Children Complete Post Card Book)

Cloud and Tifa described in CC

Cloud and Tifa are childhood friends, both born in Nibelheim. When Cloud leaves the village, he calls Tifa out to the water tower and promises that he will become a SOLDIER. At the same time, he is also made by Tifa to promise that he will come to rescue her if she is ever in trouble.

Following this, the pair experience many hardships, such as the Nibelheim incident which also appears in CC, and the Jenova War in FFVII, and through these the distance between them shortens. And in AC they live together, with Barret’s daughter Marlene, and a boy named Denzel. Though there was also a period later where Cloud lived away from them after having contracted Geostigma, they finally reach a commune with each over and return to living together once again. In DC, they rush together to Vincent’s aid, in his battle against Deep Ground SOLDIER.

(CC:FFVII Complete Guide Book)

Parallel #12: NOBUO UEMATSU COMPOSE A MUSIC SCORE BASED ON THEM IN THE SCRIPT

Zack and Aerith - “Aerith’s Theme”

I really like “One Winged Angel”. I guess, I also like “Aerith Theme.” I’m happy that it’s always well received when it’s played at concerts. Honestly, when I made it, I didn’t think it would be popular. In the scenario, there was the line “Aerith waited. Every single day, she waited and waited.” So I made the song to match that scene which means, it wasn’t made for the scene in Forgotten City. The scene where Aerith waits for Zack at the station was first. It’s a song about “a poor girl who waits for someone who doesn’t come.”

(Nobuo Uematsu’s interview from Game Symphony Japan FF7 2014 concert pamphlet)

Cloud and Tifa - “Cloud’s Smile”

One of the staff’s favorite scenes was where Cloud smiles in embarrassing way towards Tifa. Nomura liked it as there was almost no dialogue and the expression of Cloud’s face communicated his expression to the viewers. Composer Nobuo Uematsu commented, “It sounds cool!”, considering the fact that gamers who have finished FFVII (OG) would find it hard to imagine how Cloud smiles. Upon reading that scene in the script, Uematsu was inspired to write the score

(FFVII Advent Children Distance: The Making of Advent Children)

#zerith #cloti #Aerith Gainsborough #cloud strife #zack fair #Tifa Lockheart #FF7 #been awhile since I posted something like this #my double pairing

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razieltwelve · 4 years ago

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We Have One At Home (Ordinary Heroes x Pokemon)

“But, mom,” Diana wailed. “There’s an Articuno raid going on at the gym over there! I have to do it!”

Lightning was equal parts amazed and horrified that her daughter was somehow dragging her in the general direction of the gym. Ever since Pokemon Go had been released, the girl had been one of the game’s most avid players. This was despite having plenty of her own Pokemon to play with at home. Apparently, she wanted to collect all the Pokemon in real life and in the game.

“Diana, you can do a raid later.”

“But it’s an Articuno raid!” Diana waved one arm around and used the other to try to pull Lightning along. “Do you know how rare an Articuno raid is?”

“Diana, we have an Articuno at home.” As he so often did, the legendary had arrived to spend a few weeks at the ranch. If this visit was like his others, he’d spent most of his time being lazy, fighting the occasional battle, and just generally taking time off from whatever it was that legendaries normally did. At least, he’d chosen to arrive in winter this time. Last time, he’d arrived in summer, and there had been quite a few questions being asked about why it had suddenly started to snow.

Lightning had politely explained to everyone that she had absolutely no idea what was happening before going home and warning the legendary in no uncertain terms to keep a better handle on his powers... or else.

“But the Articuno at home isn’t the one in the game,” Diana insisted. “I want an Articuno in the game.”

Lightning covered her face with one hand. “Diana, please, never say that where Articuno can hear you.” Like most legendaries, he had his pride and hearing someone say that he didn’t measure up to a video game would not have pleased him. It was a pity that Zapdos wasn’t around. The electric type was basically a giant troll, and he would have found the idea of a video game with him in it amusing before insisting that Diana catch him.

“I guess.” Diana sighed. “Well, Articuno is supposed to be out for another week. I can always do a raid tomorrow or something. There are plenty of gyms near school and stuff, and I could ask Bahamut to fly me around until we find one.”

Lightning wasn’t sure whether asking the world’s mightiest and fastest dragonite to fly her around constituted cheating. Diana had almost been banned several times for moving faster than in the game than was supposed to be possible, which made the admins think she was cheating. However, she’d been able to get out of trouble by posting a video of her flying around in a special harness with Bahamut to prove she wasn’t spoofing her location.

Naturally, the developers had been forced to put out a message begging people to only ride properly trained Pokemon after several people had been injured riding newly caught or poorly trained Pokemon. There had even been one fellow who’d tried leaping onto the back of a wild charizard. He’d been lucky that several skilled trainers were nearby, or he’d probably be dead.

“If you’re going to go around looking for gyms, you have to make sure you’ve done all your homework. You also can’t go too far. You should be safe since Bahamut will be with you, but I want you to take Lucario as well.”

On the off chance that they ran into trouble, having a fighting/steel type would cover any weaknesses that Bahamut had, not that he really had weaknesses. The dragonite had become notorious for being able to win bad matchups by virtue of his overwhelming might and skill. He’d even fought Articuno to a standstill despite the absolutely massive type disadvantage he had.

“Okay, mom,” Diana said. “But maybe I should ask Articuno if he wants to come too. I bet he’ll be happy to know so many people are trying to catch him in the game.”

Lightning had a vision of the mayhem that would break out if the legendary showed himself in a large town or city. “I’m not sure that would be a good idea.” She smiled. “Now, come on. It’s almost time for dinner.”

X X X

Articuno preened as the humans below him gasped in awe at his magnificence. When he’d found out just how popular he was in some game they were playing, he knew he had to make an appearance. And sure enough, the moment he’d arrived and perched on a nearby building, the humans had hurried to take pictures and just generally marvel at how awesome he was.

Hah! And Zapdos said he wasn’t popular. He’d have to tell him all about this the next time he saw him.

Lightning had told him not to go, but he was a legendary. He wasn’t some normal Pokemon that could be ordered around. He did what he wanted when he wanted.

It was only later when he flew back to the ranch and found a glaring Lightning waiting for him with one of the tyranitars that lived at the ranch that he realised that maybe, just maybe, he’d messed up. Striking a suitably majestic pose, he decided that discretion was the better part of valour and soared into the sky.

He’d come back later, possibly once the tyranitar had gone to sleep for the night.

X X X

Author’s Notes

Of the three birds, Articuno is the most regal and majestic... and also the one who likes being praised and admired. Moltres is the most temperamental and prideful but also the one who likes to inspire others and help out. Zapdos is a troll who loves pranks and practical jokes. All three visit the ranch from time to time to take holidays since they know they’ll be safe there. Lightning is the former world champ, and the ranch not only has all of her Pokemon but a host of others too since Fang is there and it serves as a place for Pokemon to retire or recover if they no longer have a trainer or their trainer can’t take care of them anymore. In practice, the ranch has enough Pokemon to fight several wars and win.

The tyranitar at the end is not Diana’s tyranitar. It’s one of the older veteran Pokemon that came to the gym after it was rescued by Lightning during a raid on an illegal Pokemon fighting ring that badly mistreated the Pokemon. It’s been living at the ranch for a few years now, and it does a lot of good work by helping with construction projects and the like. It also makes a living by tutoring other rock types that trainers bring in for mentoring since it’s very powerful powerful. It just doesn’t like fighting much due to its past.

If you’re interested in my thoughts on writing and other topics, you can find those here.

I also write original fiction, which you can find on Amazon here. I’ve recently released two stories, Attempted Adventuring and Surviving Quarantine, as well as three audiobooks, Two Necromancers, a Bureaucrat, and an Army of Golems, Two Necromancers, a Dragon, and a Vampire, and The Hungry Dragon Cookie Company. If you like humour, action, and adventure, be sure to check them out!

#pokemon #final fantasy xiii #ordinary heroes #fanfiction #lightning farron #diana yun farron #articuno

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shymaidxn · 4 years ago

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@barmeciide

There were certain things Berlin struggled with. Or, well, there were quite a few things he struggled with. If he were to actually compose an exhaustive list of them, he had little doubt it would go on for miles upon miles. However, he was always aware that turning people down or refusing to help someone would have been rather high up on that list, which was how he had managed to get himself into this situation in the first place. And, despite the fact that the idea of performing in front of anyone - much less in front of crowd and on a stage - was enough to leave him feeling physically ill, he still didn’t possess the courage or heart to inform the Captain that he had no desire, whatsoever, to sing alongside a few of the other members of the crew at a relief concert for an island that had recently suffered from a landslide. Truthfully, he had spent the last few days since the Captain asked him if he wished to take part, swallowing down bile and Bahamut knows what else just so he would, hopefully, not heave in front of a group of strangers and allies alike.

His racing heart wasn’t doing him any favors either, nor was the fact that he hadn’t eaten in the two days since he had agreed to the concert because he was so nervous. It had been utterly thoughtless of him to agree, but he couldn’t say no out of a deeply ingrained fear of upsetting the Captain, but now his other deeply ingrained fear of disappointing others was rearing its ugly head. It was enough to leave him sitting on the deck of the Grandcypher, clutching the various pieces of sheet music he needed to memorize for the event to his chest, and inhaling against the fresh air just to try to give his weak heart a break from the stress. But it was hardly enough to appease his anxious mind and body. Not when the only time he had ever sang for someone had been for…him. At least, willingly, until the Captain had overheard him one day.

Which is how this mess had happened in the first place, and he has to swallow the pathetic whimper that threatens to heave past as his lips as he pries the papers away from his chest to glance down at them once more. His fingers trembling as he crinkles their corners to keep the wind from yanking them out of his grasp. Lips pursing and brows twisting into confusion until he hears the sound of footsteps nearby, and spots Diantha. There’s a mixture of panic and worry in his eyes as he gracelessly rises from where he had been sitting, and clumsy rushes over to her with the sheet music. “Um…excuse me,” he pants, hanging his head low. “I-I’m sorry, but would you be willing to tell me what t-this word is?” He stutters, pointing at the paper. Reading happened to be on that horribly long list, as well, having only just learned how a few years ago.

{Berlin - For GBF/Your default verse!}

Truthfully, Diantha never thought she would be in a concert again after she was done being a maiden. But skyfarer life has of course made her think wrong. Lilele was eager to sing with her, she had taken quite a few quests from choirs and bands alike to help either fill in or teach, and there’s even been the occasional event where she was either volunteered or driven enough to volunteer herself. The lattermost reason was why she had new sheet music neatly tucked into her music binder, having been volunteered by the captain, and was both more than willing to help the island in need while also not being able to refuse their darling smile. Though she was sure nobody would really turn down the situation. Queen Orchis was more than willing to run the event to help any of her stricken people, and the Knickknack Shack was more than willing to offer all the supplies needed for the same reason, which just left the need for volunteers for the relief concert…Which left both ladies asking the grandcypher for help when they needed the extra help, which left the more musically inclined on the ship to practice up a storm. Everyone’s instruments echoed through the ship until it was louder than the engine, and everyone’s voices made her ears perk up more than the slight creaks in the hull at midnight.

She of course wasn’t slacking, practicing in her room and on the deck whenever possible, and so many notes were jotted down in her own sheet music that there was practically no blank space left. Though, with practice comes past practices, if only because of the importance of this particular concert. Many more late nights than usual, filled with chiding herself back into her anxious perfectionist mindset from when she was a maiden, making sure she sang every note beautifully for hours on end so as to not mess up come performance day. Meals are skipped or micromanaged, only coming out of her room ever so often if her attention was absolutely needed elsewhere, and most of her free time and other hobbies pushed to the side in favor of concentration. A better performance would bring better prosperity, both for the island and for the ease of her heart, as is ingrained in her…

And yet she knew, deep down, that those weren’t the healthiest habits to maintain. That she was no longer shackled as the leader of the maidens; that one mistake wouldn’t be the downfall of an entire island. While this concert was important and to be taken seriously because of the relief efforts tied to it, there was no need to stress so much over something that was supposed to be simply a fundraiser meant to lift the spirits of the weary. It had taken her a night of confiding in those close to her, and those people very much urging her to get a good night’s sleep afterwards, for her to realize all this. And while her anxiety made her battle their sound claims and concerns, in the end she submitted, slowly feeling the shackles release her, at least for the moment, upon remembering how she was so cared for on this ship.

That good realization lulls her into a rem sleep, but the sun had barely prickled the horizon by the time she was up again. Always the early riser she was, yet not wanting unneeded worries hurled her way by other early birds, she decided it best to just take a small stroll on the deck after she knew she couldn’t fall back asleep. Even with the dark circles under her eyes that makeup couldn’t fully mask, she still felt much better than she had in these past couple of days, and some fresh air against the warmth of the rising sun would make her old habits hide further into their dark recesses. So, sluggishly dressing in casual clothes, she made her way to the deck as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb the other inhabitants - The soft scent of the first couple cups of coffee brewing in the cafe was so tempting to follow, yet she also didn’t want her morning to start with a worried scolding from either of the angel owners. She pressed on until she felt the morning winds whip her hair, all her dark auburn locks down to catch the flow, footsteps falling heavier with the confidence that there was no one else to disturb -

“Ah?!” Seeing the man looked so panicked makes her fully wake up instantly, arms instinctively coming out at his fumbling to his feet for fear of him toppling himself overboard, and the bright rays of dawn into her eyes makes her let out the near shriek as he makes his way towards her. Squinting, blinking, rubbing her eyes - it takes her a few moments of staring down at the wooden deck for the dots in her eyes to disappear. It takes a bit longer to let her eyes focus on the word he points to, a yawn escaping her before finally, “Rhapsody.” falls from her lips. One look up to capture who she’s actually speaking to makes her heightened senses ease a little. Berlin; she hadn’t interacted with him too much, but she’s gathered enough from being around him to know what was up. “It’s a noun meaning ‘an unrestrained enthusiastic or ecstatic expression of feeling.’.” she explained a bit because of that knowledge, hoping that helps him understand the word a bit better.

Looking down at the word again, her vision finally takes in the similar pieces of sheet music she had been pouring herself over. She recalls the captain going over the names of the people performing, though she wonders if she either didn’t remember Berlin being called out, or if perhaps he had joined a bit later. Whatever the case, it makes her feel awake once more, turning to look at Berlin again with a tired, soft smile. “Are there any other words you need help with? I can jot some examples of them down for you too, if you want.” Although she’s sure some of the crew would give her concerned or stern stares after they had just talked her down from overworking herself over this song, she could assure them that helping Berlin wasn’t the same as stressing herself into not eating breakfast.

#v: Don't judge a book by its cover #( i give myself one (1) reply here before work; tomorrow.........i'm taking a final exam *sighs* )#barmeciide #( me: *already seeing how berlin and diantha could be at least good friends because :handshake emoji: anxiety over not messing up*#i also can't wait to see if this turns into either diantha comforting berlin down or diantha falling back down in order to help berlin up #and then neither of them are eating or sleeping properly because their practicing 24/7 together #or they still become practice buddies but diantha very much has time set aside for breaks and at least small dinners #anyways i love this dynamic either way; let's see how it develops~ )#submission

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theoracleparadox · 4 years ago

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2,3,8,9,15 - questions about the muse

Questions about the muse | @roguexqueen

2- Who does your muse consider their worst enemy? What’s the story?

She has made quite a few enemies, and they’re all Imperials. The thing is, she’s not their worst enemy. A powerful asset when they do have her, but only a nuisance when she attacks them. Sure, her power may be able to cause MTs to go rogue and give daemons a power boost, but once those are cleared away, the Empire can easily repair the damage in a short amount of time.

It’s bold, but I think Andromeda’s worst enemy is Ardyn, if only because he’s incredibly manipulative (the Emperor is his puppet and even she can see that) and you can never be sure where he is. She puts on a brave face, but after the events in Niflheim, Ardyn terrifies her. At least Verstael and all of the other generals are pretty much stationary.

3- What was the best time in your muse’s life?

She has fun in Galahd and all, and she liked her childhood in Tenebrae for what it was, but the best time in Andromeda life had to have been her teen years in Lucis. Once she got out of the city and settled down at the farm, her life was almost normal (with a few of her hiccups). She got to be a normal (albeit sheltered) kid in a stable home. She lived there solidly for two years, and then during the summers and winters of the two years she attended community college in Lestallum. And even that time in Lestallum had been rather normal and enjoyable for her, too.

Andromeda could have lived like that until the Long Night fell, if she hadn’t been a stupid kid with a grudge.

8- How would you like your muse to grow in the future?

Her backstory has gotten huge and complex, and only more so because it’s going to be awhile before her story ends. One of the things I would like to see happen is for Andromeda to get close to people and form all kinds of dynamic relationships. Which I think would be easier to accomplish during World of Ruin because it makes her slow down a little bit. Before then, she’s on her own adventure and can’t stay in one place for too long. If it’s not someone chasing her down, it’s her restlessness. I’d also like her to have to deal with that; I assume some people would get tired real quick of her sneaking off and coming back whenever she pleases--especially during World of Ruin when it’s so unsafe.

I’d really like for her to get romantically involved with someone. It wouldn’t happen until WoR (again, because she would have to slow down). I think the biggest growth she needs now is in relationships. She seems to have everything else.

9- Is there anything you want to do with your muse that you haven’t yet?

Besides everything mentioned above, I feel as though I’ve skirted around Andromeda’s relationship with Etro. It’s complicated. Andromeda is not religious, but she does owe Etro some fealty for bringing her back to life. In the beginning, Etro said she was just free to keep living. As the story goes on, Andromeda is a little hesitant about what Etro asks of her. But at least once Andromeda does what Etro tells her to, she’s free to continue living (not sacrificed for some vague reason Bahamut would come up with).

There does come a time shortly after WoR begins that Andromeda reaches a breaking point. Etro hasn’t been upfront and honest about everything either as she pities Luna and plots against Bahamut. Eventually Etro would explain her banishment in full detail, and Andromeda would forsake her. She would still retain her powers, because Etro’s Blessing cannot be “cancelled” or taken back. But the goddess would have to call on someone else for favors.

15- Are you proud of your muse?

For as much work as I have put into Andromeda in the last year, I’m proud of the result. Of course, I’m also currently in the process of reviewing and rewriting a lot of her story. Not many people like her because she is a complex OC that breaks canon, but she is what I wanted her to be. I’ve learned that lesson through past OCs. It’s more important to me that Andromeda is what I wanted from the story, rather than whether people like her or not.

#ooc #roguexqueen #i am now late for work

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loyalflutist · 5 years ago

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The Warriors of Light

Rating: Mature Archive Warnings: Graphic Depiction of Violence Category: F/F Relationship: Edeleth Characters: Edelgard, f!Byleth, Hubert, Mercedes Words: 8,404 Summary: It has been five years since the Seventh Umbra Calamity. Byleth Eisner, once a proud mercenary and hero for Eorzea, now retreats as a Botanist in Gridania. She vows to live a content life in the present, throwing away her past. However, a meeting with one Marauder soon ignites what she truly desires.

A/N: Whew, I finally wrote something. I got hooked into FF XIV, so RIP, I had a ton of ideas for some of the Three Houses cast. Some information may be inaccurate or not up to date as I’ve only finished A Realm Reborn as of this posting. Other than that, I hope you enjoy it! Major thanks to HeartbeatDivinity for looking over the work!

------

How long has it been since she last traveled the lands?

Back when she was a green sprout, Byleth walked among the lands of Eorzea, acting as the Gladiator, and stayed with her father and his mercenary guild. So long as the payment is right and the reasoning is just, they’re willing to do just about anything.

They were always on the move, and there was always so much to see. By the time she became a Paladin, she was at the ripe age of 18. The people she’s met, the landmarks she’s seen, the unforgettable battles she’s witnessed, and the friendship she’s forged with others… The adventures she had with her comrades seem never-ending.

She recalls the memory of a conversation she had with Jeralt.

“You know,” Jeralt mused. “I sometimes wonder if I’ve raised you right.”

The two sat near the campfire, their fingers toying with the grasses, the stars lighting up the night sky. Many of their comrades had fallen asleep in their tents, those awake safeguarding their temporary camp. Byleth raised her brows and glanced at Jeralt. He did not look at her. Instead, he kept his gaze high up, the corner of his lips occasionally twitching.

“I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you to become a mercenary if she were still alive.”

“Really?” Byleth frowned. “Are we talking about this again?”

He shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her, and weakly smiled. “I can’t help it. You were forced into it when you were young.” Jeralt moistened his lips. “If there’s one thing I regret, I regret dragging you into this business—”

“Father,” Byleth immediately placed a hand over his. “I never regret going into this business.” She squeezed. “If anything, I’m grateful. I got to see so much. It wouldn’t be the same if I were to stay in the city. Besides,” the Paladin grinned. “I get to help everyone, especially you.”

But nothing could last forever. Byleth hadn’t traveled for three long years. She’s settled not at her bustling homeland, Ul’dah, but in the lush greenery of Gridania.

How long has it been since the Seventh Umbral Calamity?

The surreal experience had Byleth checking if the event truly transpired with her journal each waking morning. She’s flipped the pages of her poorly conditioned bundle, her dark hues staring at the surviving written pages describing the horrors of the Battle of Carteneau.

It should have been a victory for everyone in Eorzea. All three Grand Companies from Ul’dah, Gridania, and Limsa Lominsa had joined forces. The Garlean Empire’s VIIth Legion was set for defeat. Dalamud, a lesser moon that was meant to purge the primals and cause massive destruction upon the world, would be stopped. Byleth, Jeralt, and their guild offered themselves to be a part of the frontline fighters for The Immortal Flames from Ul’dah.

Yet by the time Dalamud arrived, Byleth, down onto her knee and Jeralt supporting her, stared in pure horror at the moon with everyone.

No… It wasn’t the moon.

It was Bahamut.

The massive dragon screeched into the red sky. A single sweep of its wings blew everyone off their feet. Jeralt tightly embraced his wounded daughter as they tumbled backward. He grunted, spun himself upright, and rammed his lance down into the terrain in one smooth motion, stopping them short of crashing into the rocky walls. Through Byleth’s narrowed eyes, she watched the fearsome beast shoot endless supplies of firepower, striking like meteors upon the battlefield as it flew around. No matter which side the warriors were on, everyone in sight was obliterated, clouds of smoke left in its wake.

“!”

A blast of heatwave rushed through the duo. Jeralt grimaced and tightened his grip around his daughter. One of the meteor-like attacks was coming at them, and they were unable to escape it.

But Eorzea strategized a last-minute defense: Louisoix. The old male beckoned forth a single spell, shielding them from the killing strike. A couple of other lucky adventurers and fighters on the field were also protected from the relentless assaults. Soon, he, along with several other important individuals, performed an imprisonment ritual on Bahamut.

“No…”

It had failed.

Byleth whited out in her father’s grasp as Bahamut began to charge up its ultimate move. Just before she lost consciousness, she saw Jeralt smile.

Because of that, everything was a blur afterward for Byleth. She had woken up in a familiar desert. Patting herself all around and feeling her items, armors, weapon, and body parts intact felt too good to be true. The fact that she survived The Calamity when she was out in the frontline is a miracle in of itself.

How long has it been since she lost those precious to her?

Was it a curse? Or was it karma? Losing someone was common, especially when one becomes an adventurer or works in the field as a mercenary. Byleth had lost some of her comrades in the past. She’s mourned for them. However, none of them were like the time when she awakens after the Calamity.

Byleth had woken up outside of Ul’dah.

Alone.

She scrambled up to her feet after regaining her composure. Then, she called for her chocobo, Sothis, with a whistle, and searched for her comrades.

For one month, Byleth traveled to every possible continent in Eorzea, and she questioned everyone she saw. She lavishly spent gils on traveling at least twice a day. Some receptionists and chocobo keepers at the stations began to see her as a regular because of this.

It matters not to Byleth. Every nook and cranny in imaginable places where her guild members might be— most importantly, her father, was examined. Dungeons and expeditions to dangerous, foreign lands were thoroughly investigated as a solo member.

“Get out.”

She viciously lashed out to wild creatures and enemies that provoked her during the investigations. Blood splattered upon her face as Byleth heartlessly carved their demise. She slammed her sword down in a series of quick, powerful blows against the enemy, the squelching sound of flesh mashed by the sharp blade.

They were in her way.

“…” Byleth sheathed her bloodied sword. Her chocobo softly cooed in the background, her beak tainted with crimson from pecking their enemies. She approached the yellow bird and gently pat her. Standing in the very last room of an abandoned manor, Byleth firmed her lips. “They’re not here either.”

Something stirred inside of her. Like it was tearing her apart. Tears flowed down her cheeks as the Paladin lowered her head, a quiet sob shaking her body.

To this day, Byleth still misses Jeralt and her allies. Five years had passed, yet no one had announced their return. Their deaths were confirmed after she was invited to speak with Raubahn from Ul’dah. Only Byleth had survived from her guild.

Alone.

How long has it been since she had last seen the battlefield?

The last time she participated in any sort of battle was before she succumbed to her injuries near Gridania.

Byleth stood up to fight a growing threat within the forest. The East Shroud from The Black Shroud brims with various large creatures. That doesn’t exclude insects too. Sylphs had asked for her help to rid of the pesky buzzing intruders that threaten to overwhelm their community.

The young Paladin had changed gears, a red robe exchanged from her heavy armors. Sothis squawked nearby with her new steel armors, her wings flapping wildly at the incoming black wasps. Byleth bent her knees, reeled her body back and placed her hand on the katana.

She inhaled.

Eyes narrowed, she exhaled.

Byleth dashed forward, smoothly sliding the blade out, and diced her enemies into fine pieces. Grime and thick, gold fluid discolored her plain attire with each strike.

However, she had not expected the appearance of imperial forces, the Garlean Empire’s soldiers present with their guns.

Byleth danced around their bullets, slicing them cleanly in half with swift strokes. Sweat trickled down her face as she slashed a soldier’s side. Quick work was made with the other remaining cadets. They didn’t even have a chance to cry for their mothers.

Her chocobo kicked those that slipped past her owner’s sight with a powerful thump. They were sent flying and crashed into the others. Amidst the flurrying assault of red that rained on their bodies, the swarm eventually died down. Byleth straightened her posture and sheathed her katana.

It was too soon for her to relax.

A gunshot rang out. Byleth’s eyes widened as she jerked. Smoke drifted from a dying soldier’s barrel. When his light was finally extinguished, the Samurai hurried on Sothis, the yellow bird running to the nearest safe zone. Blood oozed from her right side, staining the feathered creature’s back. By the time she got there, she was unconscious.

That was the last time she ever went into battle.

When she recovered thanks to the kind residents of this land, after some self-reflection, Byleth swore to give up her arms. The wound she’s sustained hindered her ability to continue with her operation as a solo warrior, the occasional sharp, needle-like jabs stabbing her side.

Besides, it was high time she gives into early retirement.

Byleth would always look outside of her window, hearing the loud chatters and laughter of companions heading off on a quest. She drew a deep breath. There were plenty of other adventurers to take up arms and lead the future of Eorzea. Byleth dryly swallowed. She eventually turned her back from the glass panel and returned to her workstation.

The years that slowly crawled by brought about nostalgia. She sometimes missed being an adventurer despite her decision.

How long has it been since she had been called the Warrior of Light?

She, and so many others who were once called the Warrior of Light, ceased to exist in the present.

Whether they went into hiding, had given up, or died in the line of battle during The Calamity, the tale of their adventures became nothing more than a fantasy. Leaders and survivors speak of their existence, but after five years of silence, no one would speak about them.

Not even Byleth.

The ghost of her past threatened to torture her, its black talons hovering over her neck. Just hearing the title sparked terror for the Samurai. Memories surged about the people she’s once befriended. Other Warriors of Light that shared a draft beer with her every week vanished, their final impressions being that of their corpses.

And every night, Byleth would wake up, screaming for her father. Annette would rush into her bedroom, offering warm towels, and a shoulder to lean on. On the day the young girl asked about Byleth’s nightmares, Byleth swore to never speak or think about the past ever again. Even if it meant forgetting her friends and family.

It was a success, the nightmares lessened until she could sleep like a baby. Any events before and relating to The Calamity were steadily pushed further back into the depths of her mind. Before she knew it, she became a Botanist Master, head of the Botanist guild, and living her new life.

Her role as one of the Warriors of Light would forever be lost in history.

And she wanted it to stay that way.

[-----]

“Master Eisner, you have a visitor!” one of her students, Annette, called in the background.

Byleth, adorned with an attire fit for a farmer, straightened her posture, her bare, wet hands having harvested the plants. With the sun beating down on her back, she deposited the fresh greens into the basket, and wiped the sweat off her forehead as she carefully treads through the moist plantation.

Annette provided a clean towel to her mentor upon arrival. Byleth motioned thanks to the youngster before patting her scarred hands dry, her navy hues locked to their three guests.

They were clearly adventurers… and new ones at that.

A Thaumaturge, a Marauder, and a Conjurer.

Her eyes fell upon their get-up. The equipment they had was rustic and had seen better days. Byleth stifled a grumble. Do all guilds provide their new members weathered weapons? She could not recall a time when she ever had a sword or katana in such a sorry state. Then again, times are a-changing. Old mentors of guilds were replaced with newer ones. Catherine and Shamir were fitting examples, respectively teaching and guiding Gladiators and Archers.

“So, what is it that you need from me?” she asked.

Out of the newcomers, the shortest one of the three stepped up. “I would like to become a Botanist.” She placed a hand on her chest with a smile. “Master Eisner, I want you to teach me.” When the Marauder noticed Byleth eyeing her comrades, she shook her head. “Don’t mind them. It’s just me that wants to join your guild.”

Byleth tried not to sigh. She had half-expected the trio to be here for minor tasks. Adventurers always came and went to help the Botanist out with her duties. When she could not traverse the rough terrains, they did so diligently, but with a small price. Some even became full-time students like Annette. Others became part-time students, their mind set into stone with other guilds. This youngster most likely came as the latter. Byleth crossed her arms.

“Tell me, what do you hope to achieve in this profession?”

The white-haired responds, “I want to be able to distinguish what’s appropriate to gather and harvest in the wild.” She motioned to her friends. “If we’re going to travel and find work, I want us to be able to survive out in the wild, at the very least.”

“I see.” Byleth nods. “As an adventurer, you will be out in the wild more than an average civilian. Your reasoning is sound.” She extended a hand towards the Marauder. “I will teach not only what you need to know for the field, but the importance of maintaining a symbiotic relationship with Eorzea’s plants.” When her hand was shaken, she asked, “And who do I have the honor of teaching?”

“Forgive me for not telling you my name,” the female’s cheeks slightly pinkened. “I am Edelgard von Hresvelg.” She glanced over her shoulder at her teammates. “The Thaumaturge is Hubert von Vestra and the Conjurer is Mercedes von Martritz.”

They both bowed to Byleth.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Master Eisner,” Mercedes clasped her hands together once she straightened her posture, her head tilted to the side with a smile. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Yes, you seem to have a wonderful reputation here in Gridania,” Hubert added. “Everyone says you’re reliable.”

Byleth chuckled. “Their expectation must be dangerously low. All I’ve been doing is harvesting and logging for the community.”

“But the head of the Seedseer Council said you’ve done many great things for Eorzea.”

“She must have been exaggerating.”

Their conversation came to a closure, though rather abrupt. Byleth made a scheduled meeting would follow up the next day for Edelgard, but only after Byleth had spoken to Kan-E-Senna.

The secrecy of her past life as both a survivor of the Sixth Umbra Era and Warrior of Light must remain behind closed doors.

“It’s painful,” she admits to Kan-E. “Hearing that title or my accomplishments only reminds me of him.”

Kan-E could not find the words to comfort Byleth. And that was okay. Byleth didn’t need it.

[-----]

The days that followed afterward were that of varying tasks Edelgard must take up. Byleth had offered her new equipment and tools to get started. Logging, harvesting, gathering, and learning how to identify items in the wilderness were taught at a steady pace.

“You have a knack for this,” Byleth complimented. Under the relentless sun, Edelgard wiped the sweat from her brows and leaned her hatchet against the tree trunk. A large volume of chopped woods settled nearby, its usage exclusively for Gridania’s winter preparation. Annette, Marianne, Hubert, and Mercedes offered to take them to the town’s square. From there, Shamir and her guild would evenly divide and deliver the firewood for their citizens. The teal-haired ruffled her student’s hair. “It hasn’t even been a week, but you’ve mastered the basics of gathering and tending. Today, you’ve done well with timbering.”

Edelgard managed a smile. “Only because you’re my teacher,” she said, swatting Byleth’s hand.

“You jest.”

“She’s right, you know,” Annette hollered in the background. A red mark pulsating on her head, Byleth bent down, grabbed a small rock, playfully tossed it into the air, and swung it at the speaker. The air whistled and Annette yelped. It was going to hit her, and it was going to hurt. Badly. Byleth clicked her tongue when Annette avoided her throw. “What do you think you’re doing, Master!?” she shouted. “Are you trying to kill me!?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe!? What’s wrong with you?”

“Stop embarrassing me in front of my student then.”

“I’m your student too, you know!”

Edelgard could hardly contain her laughter. But it was one of the biggest mistakes she’s made in her life. Byleth crossed her arms and glared at Edelgard.

“I hope you’re ready to be out on the field. You’re getting some Tree Toads for me.”

“…How many?” She instantly regrets asking. A sly smile bloomed on Byleth’s face. Hearing the numbers caused her knees to buck. Edelgard’s features paled as she exclaimed, “100?!”

This is an impossible feat! Hadn’t she already done enough for the day?

“It’s all a part of your training. This will also teach you the delicate balance of nature. Overpopulation is a major issue here in The Black Shroud, after all.” Byleth pats her shoulders. “Also, please make sure they are alive. I need to deliver them to Flayn.”

“…you’re lucky that I like you.”

“Did you say something?”

“N-Nothing, Master Eisner.”

Edelgard hung her head and dragged her scythe, hatchet, basket, and net outside of the premise.

Hubert and Mercedes watched from afar, a crate of chopped woods at hand. “I can only hope milady can stop provoking Master Eisner…” he sighed.

The blonde magus giggled. “I think she might be having fun.”

“Our definition of ‘having fun’ is different, I’m afraid.”

“Speaking of that, when do you think Edelgard will ask Master Eisner out?”

“Wha— Why are you bringing up a silly matter like that?” he scowled. “I’m returning to my duty!”

“But this is the last—”

“And so should you!”

Mercedes watched Hubert storm off, leaving her alone. Annette emerged in his place, her hands behind her back. She softly hummed. “That’s something you don’t see every day.” Mercedes chuckled. “I agree.”

[-----]

Days marched to weeks, and weeks marched to months, and months marched to a year. Edelgard no longer was a Marauder, but a Warrior. By that time, training began to move from location to location appropriate for her student, the environmental conditions becoming harsher.

Unlike her students like Annette and Marianne, Edelgard made a commitment to perform various other tasks at hand for Eorzea. Hearing of her student’s adventures with Hubert and Mercedes reminds Byleth of her own. Each story told was like hearing from her own memories. The achievements, the accomplishments, the heroic deeds they were known for… It was like looking at a mirror. She smiled awkwardly. Edelgard’s tales were full of optimism and pride. Byleth’s was the complete opposite.

Eventually, the days they’ve spent together must come to an end. Edelgard would have to graduate from her Botanist guild. It was bittersweet, but a farewell was soon in place.

They were now seen in Coerthas Western Highlands. A thick, brown overcoat covered their bodies as the four stood over the café’s table, a crinkled map rolled out.

“Your final task is to find this,” Byleth tapped on the booklet with a sketch of a Rainbow Cotton Boll. “However, due to the nature of this assignment, I will allow you to have your allies with you.”

The Warrior looked up. “What about you?”

“I will also come.” Byleth adjusted her overcoat and smiled. “I wouldn’t want to miss my final moments with one of my students.”

“Only because I’m your student?”

Byleth deadpan stared at Edelgard. “Yes.” Edelgard lightly scratched her discolored cheek and looked elsewhere. “I had expected more, but if you say so, Master Eisner.”

Oh… Oh, it was swinging in that direction.

“Don’t push your luck, young lady. I’m not going to pass you just because of our relationship.”

“That’s not what I’m implying— Oh, nevermind, you wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.”

“…remind me why I chose you over my suitors again?”

In the background, Hubert and Mercedes exchanged looks. They shrugged their shoulders. It was always like this between the two women. Byleth and Edelgard were entranced and intoxicated with each other’s presence since the day they’ve met, their banters nonstop. It had only worsened since the day they began dating last month.

Hubert sighed. “Can we go now? Let’s not waste any time.”

The party eventually exited the bar. Cold air tickled their nose, snow gently falling upon their figures. Their metallic and leather boots crunched the white plain as they traversed to their destinations.

Yet somewhere along the way, they had taken a detour.

Byleth felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of her face. They were far from their destination. Very far. Edelgard, Hubert, and Mercedes were enticed by their curiosity, and so they chased after it. Far north from their assigned areas, the four marched into The Steel Vigil.

‘ I don’t like where this is going… ‘

Call it instinct, Byleth could not soothe the butterflies in her stomach. Their White Mage ran up to what remains of the watchtowers. She traced the uneven concrete slabs of the outer walls, the majority of its content destroyed by the Dravanian Horde.

Edelgard dropped her hatchet and scythe. In lieu, the Warrior reached for the large axe behind her back and dashed past Mercedes. A gust of wind blew against her party members, forcing their arms up, as she bellowed. In conjunction, the dragon screeched, hurting their eardrums. Edelgard breathed deeply and tore her weapon from the massive black creature. Crimson trail slithered down its scale as it screeched once again.

Almost half as tall as the watchtower, they were mere insects to the magnificent beast.

“I knew this was a bad idea!” Byleth took a step forward. She paused, placing a hand on her side, a dull ache resonating.

Was she able to participate in this battle?

It matters not for now. Mercedes and Hubert immediately jumped in front of Byleth. Their hoodies were blown off, electricity crackling from Hubert’s fingertips.

“Thunder!”

He threw his hand out and lightning shot from his palm. Edelgard bounced back just in time for the spell to slam into the dragon. It howled and stumbled backward.

However, the dragon reeled its head back, an orange glow beginning to emit from its throat. The color brightened drastically as it neared its mouth. Edelgard’s eyes widened. It was aiming at Hubert, Mercedes, and Byleth. She ran until she was on the opposite side of her comrades, charged at the creature, and too reeled her arms back. The young woman leaped high into the air. Edelgard focused on the creature’s scaly neck. A battle cry chortled from her throat once her axe swung at full force.

It diverted its attention, but the energy it gathered could not dissipate. A fiery beam shot out of its mouth. Edelgard had to summon her strength to brace for the impact. She gritted her teeth as her overcoat burnt away, the thick armors cracking under the pressure. By the time the dragon was done, Edelgard was still left standing. Breathing heavily, the Warrior crumbled to her knee, the axe used as support.

Mercedes hastily cast healing spells to Edelgard as Hubert continued to send Thunder in its direction. But the dragon stared at the four, their presence so miniature compared to its destructive powers.

“We should make a strategic retreat!” Mercedes beckoned. She swung her staff as another Cure was directed to their injured comrade. “We might outrun it!”

“Are you sure about that?” Hubert asked. Flames danced around his wrist, fire shooting from his hand at the powerful dragon. Despite his attempts, the monster shook off any ill effect. The Black Mage cursed under his breath. “This dragon will chase us until one of us admits defeat!”

Edelgard grimaced. When the dragon focused its attention on her comrades once more, the female dragged her axe on the white ground, running to it.

“Pay attention to me!”

Another smash was delivered. Sure enough, she had the huge creature’s undivided attention. Its claws slammed on the ground, shaking their balance. Edelgard rolled out of the way with each attempt and knelt on one knee. This dance composed of dodging and striking at the dragon continued for some time. Hubert and Mercedes also continued their support, the Black Mage casting offensive magic and the White Mage casting shrouds of healing spells.

Byleth was the odd one out.

She watched the adventurers beat down the dragon bit by bit. The Botanist bit her lip. At that instant, the dragon roared, spread its wings, and flapped them. Strong gusts knocked everyone but Byleth off their feet, their bodies sinking into the snow.

Compared to Edelgard and Hubert, Mercedes was unfortunate, the beast slamming its hand into her. Mercedes felt its claw dig into her innards, the healer screaming. Red colored her vision as the creature raised its bloodied limb. Then, it struck again. Again. And again. Dread gripped their souls as Mercedes’s squeals of pain pierced the sky.

“MERCEDES!”

Edelgard scrambled to her feet, but her knees gave way, face greeting the chilly ground. Hubert combined Thunder, Fire, and even Blizzard, but it had done little to the fearsome foe. The dragon was squarely in control of the situation.

Were their efforts from earlier fruitless?

The sound of snow crunching perked the two’s ears.

“B-Byleth?” Edelgard hoarsely whispered once she raised her head. The white-haired watched her mentor slowly approach the dragon. Since the day they have met, Edelgard had never seen Byleth engage in a fight. Seeing her older girlfriend face the dragon without a weapon was suicidal. She shook her head and tried to crawl. “Byleth! Don’t do this!”

Edelgard’s outcry caught the dragon’s attention. The creature kept its hold on the White Mage, its bleeding blue eyes staring at the Warrior. Then, it turned to the last standing person, its claws finally removed. Mercedes weakly gasped as it marched towards Byleth. Hubert hurried to her side to tend her wounds. Buffs of hot breath escaped its nostrils once it stopped before the Botanist. It gave a thunderous roar, knocking back her hood. Byleth frowned and held its blue eyes, weighing its gaze.

The dragon made no hesitation to blow hot blue flames at the teal-haired woman. Edelgard screamed.

“BYLETH!”

The flames had eaten the thick overcoat, but left the pristine, red robe underneath unscathed. A glimmer pierced the raging vortex. Byleth swept the fire, clearing her position, with a katana at hand. Edelgard’s heart pounded. Her girlfriend was standing in the middle of the blue flames, unharmed and armed. The roles were now reversed.

“Looks like I can’t run away forever.”

Byleth ignored the strong aches that reside from her years-old injury. She adjusted her stance. The dragon flapped its wings, producing more wind, fluttering her robe. They glared at each other, a period of silence hanging in the still air.

Then, the enemy reacted.

It breathed more blue flames. Byleth sidestepped and rushed head-first to the creature. She swiped and flickered the katana, its blade creating lacerations in its wake. It screeched from the top of its lungs. Its claws reached out for her, but she parried and dodged it with ease. Byleth kept the momentum up, driving the dragon backward, persistent with lightning strikes.

“Getsu.”

She angled her katana into a crescent shape, a faint illusion of the moon drawn from her blade.

“Setsu.”

Solid icicles burst from the dragon’s fresh cut, freezing its innards.

“Ka.”

Cherry blossoms scattered from her katana and danced around Byleth as she slashed in a flurry.

The dragon snarled. It reached out to grab Byleth once she regained her composure. Byleth sidestepped once more, but winced, a sharp stab to her side. She staggered and the beast easily pulled her into its grip. She gasped as it tightened. Then, it flew into the air. They disappeared into the snowing clouds above the adventurers’ head.

Seconds ticked by, yet there is no sign of return.

Edelgard got to her feet, stumbling in the process. “W-What’s going to happen to Byleth?” She propped herself upright with her axe. “Am I going to lose someone I love again?”

Those words stung. Hubert cursed as he sprinkled more potion on Mercedes’s crimson gash. “She will survive, milady!” His stained hands continued to apply first-aid to the mangled flesh exposed in this rigid environment. Sweat slid over his brows as the Black Mage said, “Have faith in her!”

“Should I be concerned that it’s coming from your mouth?”

“Milady, if you have the time to tease,” a katana stabbed between the two from above. “I suggest you help Master Eisner.”

Just as he predicted, the clouds had dispersed, leaving the center empty. A black blur flew down. The dragon twisted in the air as it descended, tossing Byleth to the side. She smashed into the outer wall, debris and smoke filling the area. Once it dissipated, Byleth groaned, laying still in the rubble.

“Byleth!” Edelgard rushed to her side. Snow kicked up in front of her. She skidded to a stop and took a step back. Looking up, she saw the dragon in her path, rosy fluids dribbling from its mouth. It roared, but weakly, at the Warrior. She grimaced and raised her axe. She had to keep the dragon’s attention off Byleth.

Edelgard roared, swinging her axe. “I’ll be your opponent!”

Amidst the crumbled structure, Byleth struggled through her swimming vision. The impact had cut her scalp, drawing blood that trickled between her eyes. Byleth slowly rolled onto the snow. She hissed as needle-like sensations relentlessly jabbed into her side.

Byleth reached for the item pouch around her waist. A shaky hand retrieved one Hi-Potion. The substance poured into her mouth, its potency quelling the pain. Byleth flung the empty glass bottle aside. She wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and rose. Hubert, who now carried an unconscious Mercedes, ran to the Samurai.

“Here!” he tossed. Byleth’s outstretched hand caught her weapon. She nodded. “Thanks.”

She turned her attention to the dragon and Edelgard. Byleth’s brows furrowed.

“Edelgard!” she said. “Bring it closer to me!”

“Byleth, wha— you’re okay!?”

The white-haired female nearly bit her tongue, ducking from a swipe. Edelgard straightened her posture and shot a glance. Byleth began to kneel, her hands resting on the sheathed katana, staring at the beast. There was a pause. Then, Edelgard nodded. The axe in her grip tightened and spun. Both the creature and Edelgard roared in synchronization as they raced to land the first strike.

A burst of flames and lightning sprouted upon the dragon. Hubert had released his hold on the injured Mercedes. Decorated staff in one hand, he grunted and unleashed a torrential of magic onto the field, its destruction rivaling that of the beast.

The adventurers and Byleth felt invigorations mere seconds later. Mercedes leaned against what’s left of the outer wall, her white magic going into effect. Edelgard was granted silent permission to recklessly throw herself into the enemy, ramming her heavy axe.

They were slowly inched closer to Byleth. Soon, the dragon shook the ground with its roar, reeling its head back. The same orange light started to emit from its throat. Sweat slid down her face. With the wall, Hubert, and Mercedes behind her, she was trapped, Edelgard stalling for the final blow. Byleth drew her lips to a line.

It was only a matter of time until they were blasted into oblivion.

Byleth slowed her breathing, her knuckles whitening. Three components of Iaijutsu had activated previously in battle. She exhaled. A calm wave washed over her, Byleth narrowing her eyes. The instant Edelgard smashed her axe onto its belly, Byleth pivoting on her heel.

NOW!

Byleth sped through the dragon. Not even a second passed and she stood on the other side of it, her katana flicked out.

Silence.

Then, blood spewed from the dragon.

It screeched and thrashed as the bright light from its neck disappeared. Hubert, Mercedes, and Edelgard hopped back as its tail swished. Byleth remained still, the rampage narrowly missing her. She twirled the katana at hand. When she sheathed it, the dragon collapsed, the surrounding snow painted in a ruby splatter.

“…”

Byleth’s tense shoulders eased, her head lowered.

It was over.

The Samurai was immediately greeted with a crushing hug from behind, Edelgard’s face nestled into her shoulder. “I’m so glad we’ve defeated the dragon,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine what would happen if we didn’t…” Byleth turned to face Edelgard in her embrace, her smile soon strained as the Warrior frowned. “Though I have questions for you. A lot.”

As Edelgard wiped off the blood from the older female’s face with a singed handkerchief, Byleth said, “I will answer them all once we’ve headed to safety.”

She and Hubert would then whistle, two yellow birds coming just as quickly as they were called. Sothis tilted her head and cooed softly once Byleth and Edelgard sat on her back. As for Hubert and Mercedes, he took the rein for her chocobo, Pom Pom (clearly named after Annette’s suggestion), He offered to head to the nearby town first as their White Mage required medical attention.

They hurried off. Both Byleth and Edelgard would shortly follow after them, albeit at a slower pace.

Byleth blinked. She was seeing doubles. Another blink and a shake of her head.

“Byleth?” Edelgard touched her on the arm. “Are you feeling alright?”

She went limp in response. Edelgard muffled a grunt and caught her girlfriend from falling off their mount. Despite the everlasting winter environment, Byleth felt cold to the touch. Colder than ice.

“No, this cannot be happening!”

The Warrior took the rein from behind and, after adjusting the taller female to rest on Sothis, sprinted into the snowy town.

The chocobo squawked and leaped off a high cliff. Edelgard leaned forward, almost hugging the unconscious Samurai. Sothis squealed when a jolt of pain traveled up her legs. However, she continued running as fast as she could. Her owner was in danger! Edelgard bit her lip as they neared Camp Dragonhead.

“Don’t you dare die on me!”

Their arrival startled many. Blood splattered their attire, bruises and patches of peeling, hot red skin had many citizens turn away. Guards from Camp Dragonhead approached the four warriors.

The interrogations did not last long.

Mercedes and Byleth were transported to the premise’s medical facility in a hurry. Doctors and nurses brought them into surgery while nearby White Mages offered to heal Hubert and Edelgard. The two sat outside of the operating room. Hubert crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. Edelgard buried her face into her palms, not a peep heard from the tank.

“They will be okay,” Hubert rested a hand on her back, his eyes soft. “I believe in them.”

“Are you sure…?” Edelgard raised her head, her bandages wet from the tears. Her lips quivered as she asked, “They will not meet the same fate as my brothers and sisters, right?”

He nodded. Then, he pulled his childhood friend close. Resting his chin on her head and rubbing her back, he whispered, “El, they will never leave your side. I promise you that.” Hubert knew of the loss Edelgard sustained as a child. The false promises of becoming the next emperor of new territory in Eorzea, the Adrestian Empire. Surviving the assassination that took the lives of her parents and siblings. Fending for herself in Limsa Lominsa. Reuniting with Hubert in Ul’dah and becoming friends with Mercedes in Gridania. She had gone through so much.

Hubert tucked a stray strand of white hair behind her ear. He stared at her face, then smoothed her head, almost as if he were her older brother.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer like this.”

The two eventually fell asleep sitting up, waiting for the return of their comrades.

[-----]

One week later…

“Are you still here to ask me questions?”

“Yes.”

“Persistent, aren’t you?”

Edelgard shrugged, peeling the apple’s skin with a knife. Byleth huffed in her bed. Resting in a shared recovery room with Mercedes, the four were present with their own business. Hubert tended to Mercedes with news about the day. As for Edelgard, well, it was self-explanatory.

“I don’t understand why you aren’t willing to open up about your past with me.”

“I… just need some time.”

“Time?” she raised a brow, hands still occupied with the fruit. “How long?”

“Until I feel the time is right.”

“Pfft. That’s going to take forever.”

The Samurai’s hands balled into fists. Though it is a jest, it has some truth behind it. The weight of her past continues to chain Byleth down. If anything, just as she confessed to Kan-E, Byleth wants to stay as far away as possible from her past title and occupation. Surging memories of Jeralt was inevitable, and she shuddered, her heart beating fast.

“…perhaps I should ask you something...” Edelgard raised her head, the peeled apple placed on a plate, all ears on her. Byleth’s navy hues wandered elsewhere, her thumbs tapping and toying with one another. She jolted from feeling her girlfriend’s warmth. Edelgard enveloped her hand with hers, lilac eyes staring into the Samurai’s. Byleth dryly swallowed. “What if… What if I’m afraid to talk about it?”

“Afraid?”

She nods. “Let’s start from the beginning. You’ve heard of stories about the Seventh Umbral Calamity, right?” When her student and allies admit, she continued, drawing in a deep breath. “Then, you must’ve heard rumors about those called the Warriors of Light.”

“Bits and pieces. Always thought they were nothing more than a made-up story about Eorzean heroes. Why do you ask?”

“If I were to tell you that I was once labeled as one, would you believe in me?”

“You’re joking.”

“I wish I was. Louisoix called me one when I first met him.” Byleth recalled her meeting with the old man. Still a budding sprout, the Gladiator and Jeralt were invited to speak with the key figure. Feats they’ve achieved for the sake of Eorzea went unnoticed. It was likely they would talk about them. However, Louisoix had said very little. Instead, he motioned his aged hand to the two, a smile blooming. “…and that was when he called me and father the Warriors of Light.”

Mercedes, opposite of her bed, clasped her hands and wondered, “Oh, Master Eisner, so the reputations from the Grand Companies were not untrue then! To think that I would meet one in-person.” The blonde grinned. “Helping others, upholding justice, and doing what is good for Eorzea… You must’ve accomplished so much in your life.”

“Yet I’ve lost so much too.” Mercedes’s features drooped, Byleth staring at Edelgard’s hand. “If anything, I wished I wasn’t the Warrior of Light.”

A chill slithered down her spine. Byleth slowly opened about the moments during the Calamity. Rocks turned to ashes from the intense heat, flames spreading throughout the battlefield. The Garlean Empire unleashed mighty magiteks, weapons, and soldiers on the dreadful landscape. And Byleth was there in the frontline, acting as the Paladin. All f their efforts to stop the empire and Bahamut… In the end, she was the lone survivor from her father’s mercenary guild.

“I remembered,” Mercedes said. The others looked at her. She cast her sight to the floor. “Although I was not at the frontline, I witnessed Dalamud approaching our planet from the church.” True to her words, before she was a White Mage and a Conjurer at Gridania, Mercedes was raised and served at the Church of Saint Adama Landama in Thanalan. When tragedy struck, she could only offer prayers for the lives that were lost and hope to repel the enormous dragon. “I could only imagine how much you’ve suffered.”

Edelgard rubbed Byleth’s arm. “You’ve done so much for Eorzea…” she bitterly smiled. “You were out there, protecting us… You’ve saved us all.”

Hubert, though, crossed his arms. “If you so claim that you are the Warrior of Light, then why did you hide that vital piece of information from everyone, especially from us?” The Black Mage frowned. “Why did you pretend to be a Botanist?”

“I…” Byleth’s heart squeezed. She placed a hand over her chest, the wounded Samurai shakily exhaling. “I was a coward.” A pause. “I still am.”

The past was always haunting her. Its shadows prickled the back of her neck, darkness looming over the survivor. Byleth rubbed her arm. “I’m afraid of the ghost of my past— My dead comrades, my dead father, and the Calamity.” The rubbing intensified. “Hearing that title reminds me of them. I would rather live my life in peace, forgetting about it all.”

Though sympathy was gained by the ladies, Hubert thought otherwise. He got up from the wooden stool, marched up to the teal-haired, and shook her shoulders.

“Get a grip, Byleth!” he yelled. “To live like this is no better than to die!”

“Hubert—”

When Edelgard too stood up, he shook his head.

“Milady, forgive me, but I cannot stay silent.”

He placed a hand on his chest, glaring into Byleth’s navy eyes. “I too have a past I wish to never remember. Everyone does.” He swept his arm to Mercedes and Edelgard. “They have a past they wish to make amends with. To change the course of history for a better outcome. However, we only have today and tomorrow.” Hubert tightened his grip. “If you are to continue acting this way, then it’s no wonder why you’ve abandoned your duty as the Warrior of Light.”

“I’m sure there are others that would carry the future of Eorzea—”

“But you are here right now!”

“I am unable to fight at full strength. You saw how I collapsed after the battle last week. It’s impossible to return to duty as I’ve had when I was by myself.”

“We are here for you! Did you seriously forget that we are also your comrades?” The older male released her, still scowling. “I’m sorry, but I cannot deal with a person who wishes to waste their potential on a meaningless life.”

“Isn’t she the Botanist guild master though?” Mercedes quipped.

“That is not enough for someone with her capability.” He turned his back to the Samurai, walking to the exit. “I don’t even think she’s worthy of being Edelgard’s woman.” The door then slammed from behind.

Edelgard scratched her cheek. “I’ve never seen Hubert so angry before.” She glanced at her girlfriend. Hand still on Byleth’s, she gave another squeeze, leaning in. “I want to let you know that, unlike Hubert, whatever you choose to do with your life… I will support you.” The Warrior captured Byleth’s lips. “Don’t you worry about protecting anyone,” she said after parting. Getting up from her stool, Edelgard gave another kiss, this time on the head. “You’ve protected us once during the Calamity, and you’ve protected us a week ago with the dragon. I think you deserve to rest.”

“El…”

Compared to her male companion, Edelgard was gentle. Yet the two of them had a point, their arguments well-supported.

Her lover waved farewell for the evening, visiting hours over, and returned to the inn for the night. That left Byleth with Mercedes. She looked to the White Mage.

“I’m not even sure what to decide anymore.”

“Hm…” Mercedes cupped her chin. “This is a difficult choice to make. But I know that so long as you remain true to yourself, then you’ve made the right decision.” She settled into her blanket, the nurses coming in to dim the candles. “Have you ever thought of becoming an adventurer again?”

“Sometimes,” she answered truthfully.

Mercedes hummed again. “Then you’re being chained to the past. Though, knowing you, I know you’ll reach an answer before we fully recover.”

“What if I can’t?”

“I think that’s too soon to say.”

The rest of the night, they slept in silence. Mercedes did, at least. Byleth found herself staring up at the ceiling, her gauzed hands resting over her stomach. Her thumbs casually tapped at an even, rhythmic interval.

What is it that she truly desired?

She sighed. It was time for some self-reflection.

[-----]

Another week crawled by in Camp Dragonhead. During the days she and Mercedes were out of commission, Edelgard and Hubert traveled around Coerthas Central Highlands. Small quests and duties with other party members were tackled, the latest task partnering them with Ingrid Brandl Galatea and Dorothea Arnault, respectively a Dragoon and Scholar.

Was this busywork? To keep their minds off about Byleth’s true identity? Or did they use this chance to make new relationships and make some spare gils on the side?

Whatever it was, it matters not, the time for their friends’ discharge finally here. Mercedes had left first, leaving Byleth alone. Or so she thought she was alone.

“Congratulation on your discharge, Master Eisner!” Annette and Marianne, who had traveled from Gridania, greeted Byleth, a bouquet of scarlet carnations offered. “Just wanted to stop by here and make sure you’re still kicking.”

“I-It would be… terrible if you were to die…” Marianne fidgeted.

Annette laughed in response, slapping her colleague’s back, hard. “It would be terrible, huh! But I’m glad she’s still here with us.” Marianne yelped and tried to swat her friend’s hand. “Can you… please not do that?”

“Oh, you’re no fun!”

Seeing their cheery selves caused Byleth to smile. Then, she stood up from her mattress, walking to the closet. Folded neatly was her decorated red robe. Nearby, her katana stared at its owner, begging for usage. Byleth glanced over her shoulder. Annette and Marianne were still in the room. She dryly swallowed, the Samurai’s fingers delicately rubbing the silky material.

“Annette, Marianne, I have something to tell you both.”

“Hm? What’s up?” Annette said. “Are there materials you want us to harvest or gather for you?”

Byleth shook her head. “That’s not it. I’m actually thinking about putting you both as the new masters for the Botanist guild.”

“…I heard wrong, did I?”

When Byleth shook her head, Marianne felt a rising dread from her chest, as Annette wondered, “Is there a reason as to why you want to make us the new guildmasters?”

An answer was already in preparation for a question like this. Soon, Annette and Marianne’s eyes sparkled, shaking the Samurai’s hands.

“I wish you the best of luck, Master Eisner,” Annette said, a tinge of sadness hinted. “We’re going to miss you.”

“It… It was fun studying under you,” Marianne added with a smile.

"I might stop by, so don't slack off."

The two shuddered, Marianne especially. She trembled in her boots, her fingers still tasting the slimy toads years prior.

Soon, the three left together. Both Marianne and Annette departed back to Gridania. As for Byleth, the mentor approached the three-man group she had seen so often. Edelgard, Hubert, and Mercedes waiting for her return.

“Glad to see you’re doing better, Byleth,” Edelgard said. “There aren’t any complications that we need to know of, right…?”

“Other than my damaged side from six years ago, no.”

“I see,” Hubert crossed his arms. “Have you thought about your future?”

Jumping right to the gun. Hubert was not the kind of person to be dilly-dallying. Byleth shrugged her shoulders, causing his furrowed brows to deepen. However, she said, “If I were by myself, no. But with you all… I believe I can follow my heart’s true desire.” The mentor laughed. “After some self-reflection, I’ve come to terms that I want to become an adventurer once again.”

“But what about your trauma?”

It's not easy getting over the past. Still... Byleth took Edelgard’s hands and squeezed them. “I’m okay. So long as I have you, I… I won’t be afraid anymore. I’ll try to, I promise.” She looked to the Black and White Mage. “I hope you have room for an additional member of your party.”

“We always have room for one more,” Mercedes giggled. “We actually need someone of your expertise to form a perfectly balanced group.”

“Glad there’s a spot waiting for me to fill.”

Hubert quietly nodded in the background, satisfied with her answer.

Edelgard rushed into her lover’s arms, pressing her face against her breasts. She closed her eyes, whispering, “I’m glad you decided to travel with us, my love.”

"Me too." Byleth kissed the top of her head. “It’s good to be back in business.”

This time, with new comrades, the ghost of her dead allies only able to watch from afar.

Soon, Eorzea will hear of the news that the Warrior of Light has made her return. Accomplishments of her past are soon forgotten in place of newer ones. Impossible assignments that would turn anyone’s tail around were deliverable. The tales of Byleth Eisner stretched far and wide, her reputation spiking. However, the Grand Companies pointed out her closely knitted party, the three on equal standing with the teal-haired female.

“Are you thinking of what I’m thinking?” Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn, leading the Grand Company of Limsa Lominsa, remarked during a meeting with the other two Grand Companies.

Raubahn from Ul’dah chuckled. “I’m not surprised. That kid managed to find a band of warriors that share the same motivation as her.”

“And they’re always together too,” Kan-E added. “They continue to forge a powerful bond that rivals many alliance leaders of the past.”

“You don’t say,” Merlwyb tapped her finger on the wooden table. “I say that they remind me of Byleth— No, that isn’t right. What I meant to say is how they share similarities to the heroes of the past.” She leaned forward, a grin breaking out. “Could they be the new Warriors of Light?”

And it turns out, Byleth, Edelgard, Hubert, and Mercedes would become just that: the Warriors of Light.

18 notes · View notes

mastrechef · 5 years ago

Text

I got this weird idea in my head and it kept pestering me until I did something about it, so I picked away at it while on vacation. It started out as something else until I adapted it for FFXV, but anyway, here’s some random snippets of stuff where all the dialogue is composed of spliced together song lyrics. I tried to keep the lyrics intact and recognizable, but I did occasionally omit words to make things fit better. Features an Ardynson!Nyx but not related to my other Ardynson stuff.

His breath rasped in his throat like a death rattle. It wasn’t long now. He was old and withered, his bones grown brittle, and his mind slow. Death would claim him soon. Sitting alone in the dark, he could do nothing but wait.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, but in his weak state he was slow to respond. He finally managed to crane his neck to look. Nothing. Just shadows. With a wheezy sigh, he settled his head back to stare at the ceiling once more.

Burning gold eyes met his own.

His breath stuttered to a halt as he realized just who was looming over him.

Ardyn Lucis Caelum said, “Fondest greetings to you, dear brother, it’s been a while. Where should we begin? You and I, we were once inseparable. Oh, how quickly life can turn around.”

Somnus could only mutter silent denials to himself. Hallucination or ghost or whatever it may be, this was not his brother. He’s been dead and buried for decades.

“Why so silent? Did you think that I had left you for good?” The thing wearing his brother’s face leaned closer, those eyes fever-bright even as something dark lurked behind them.

“You’re just a memory,” Somnus said with a feeble shake of his head.

“Here I stand, left for dead,” the Ardyn look-alike sighed dramatically. His--it’s-- expression, which was exaggeratedly jovial until now, turned somber. “You turned this lie to truth. Will you own up or deny it?”

“The dead can’t speak,” insisted Somnus. “And there’s nothing left to say anyway.”

It continued on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You could never know what it’s like. My soul’s been withered and wisped away. It messes with your sanity by twisting all your thoughts away.”

The words ignited something in him, and Somnus forgot to dismiss the ghost. Filled with a long-forgotten strength, he spat, “You used to have a soul, but it died. You forgot all the things that are human.”

Ardyn shook a finger at him in a chiding gesture. “Shame on you. You don’t care what you’ve done, just keep on thinking it’s my fault.” A hand flashed out to grip his chin like a vice. “I am what you made me. I remain condemned and I will ever linger on the edge.”

Somnus hissed. “All that you are is the end of a nightmare. You challenged the gods and lost. Past the point of no return, lost in the darkness--”

The hand on his chin squeezed until his jaw creaked in protest. “Are you done? I think I’ve had enough of you rambling on and on.”

Demonic eyes bored into Somnus with increased intensity. “I want to know,” said Ardyn. “You got your glory. Was it worth the cost of breaking a family in two? Do your demons ever let you go?”

Somnus glared back with as much ferocity as he could muster. “You were only in my way.”

The look of false pity he received infuriated him. How dare this soulless creature mock him so? He had been burdened with a great purpose and had only done what needed to be done. The scourge-infected had needed to be wiped out, so he had done it. All to protect his future kingdom.

As though he could hear these thoughts, Ardyn shook his head and said, “Through your need to feel you're right, you're the savior of nothing.”

“I am a righteous man--”

“You’ve taken away everything,” interrupted Ardyn, strangely calm, like the eye of a storm. “I give you sweet revenge. I return this nightmare: a life for a life.”

“What can you do?” Somnus scoffed.

“Your number is up. Sorry, not sorry,” Ardyn said in feigned apology. His lips pulled back abruptly in a snarl. “Take all your deeds and rot in hell.”

The last thing Somnus saw was his brother’s starscourge gold eyes bleeding black.

more under the cut

Nyx understood at an early age that his dad was broken, so he did his best to keep things lighthearted and cheerful whenever his dad was able to visit. If he could keep his dad’s thoughts in the here and now, that meant less time spent dwelling on awful curses and past betrayals. He would let his dad take the first step if he wanted to talk.

The tale came in bits and pieces over the years, but always lacking a great bit of detail. It was a rare day when Ardyn actually spoke of the true impact of the betrayal, of the 2000 years spent wandering, undying.

So it came as a surprise when Ardyn brought it up suddenly one morning as they were watching the sunrise over Galahd.

“There is not much left of me,” he said, apropos of nothing.

Nyx turned to him questioningly, his concern all but radiating out of him.

“Nothing is real but pain now. Emptiness is filling me to the point of agony.” In spite of his dark words, Ardyn turned to smile at his son. “Whenever I am with you, you deliver me from the pain in my life. I can gain control because you’re mine.”

There was nothing that made Nyx happier than the knowledge that he was able to help his dad just by being around and being himself. Still, he felt compelled to ask, “Will this curse ever be broken?”

“I wonder… All my life I dream of the day it’s taken away.” Ardyn’s face twisted into that look of melancholy despair that Nyx hated. “Death would be an ample compensation, but heaven doesn’t want me.”

As much as he didn’t want to even consider the thought of his dad dying, he knew there was no one who deserved the chance to rest more than Ardyn. Privately, Nyx made a promise to himself. “I will fight this war for you,” he swore. Because he would do anything for his father. Anything at all to stop him from looking so worn down and hopeless.

Galahd fell and Nyx found himself joining the Kingsglaive in Insomnia. He also made a name for himself with his reckless heroics and his need to save as many as he could. However, it wasn’t until he was stuck on Citadel duty, close enough to feel the magic of the Crystal humming in his bones, that he considered it. It being a monumentally stupid idea, but one that was worth the potential payoff.

So one late night, when there weren’t many others around to take much notice of him, Nyx stood before the Crystal with the intent to have a chat with the Draconian. Nyx took a deep breath and steeled his nerves.

Before Nyx had the chance to speak a single word, a sword slammed into the floor between him and the Crystal, and in short order Bahamut materialized beside it. The Astrals voice echoes eerily as he spoke. “You have come here in pursuit of your deepest urge, in pursuit of that wish which till now has been silent.”

Well, that simplified things for Nyx. If Bahamut knew that much, then surely he was aware of just who his father was. Although, if he had known from the beginning, it was a little strange that he hadn’t done anything about it like Nyx and Ardyn had considered.

Nyx shoved the thought to the side as it wasn’t important right now. “Undo these chains,” he said simply. Bahamut would get his meaning.

The Draconian’s gaze on him felt like a physical weight. It was honestly a bit terrifying to be at the center of Bahamut’s attention, not that Nyx would admit to it. He had come here for one purpose and one alone; he wasn’t about to back down because of nerves.

“Give your soul to me for eternity,” Bahamut finally said.

“Is this the way it’s gotta be?” Nyx scoffed. Even if he was scared out of his wits, he wasn’t about to put up with Bahamut’s bullshit. He was willing to do anything, give up anything, for his father, but Ardyn would kill him if all Nyx did was land himself in the same boat.

“Not a hero unless you die.”

Nyx didn’t agree with that statement at all. Still, the Astral hadn’t smited him yet, so he’d push his luck to see if he could wrangle an actual deal out of this mess. “I am just a man, but my voice will be heard today. I fight to make a stand. If you wanna play it like a game, come on let's play.”

“Ignorant fool, lost within a world beyond your control,” Bahamut’s voice boomed. The Astral hefted his sword and pointed it straight at Nyx.

Agony coursed through him, as though his blood had turned to liquid fire, pulsing in time with his thundering heartbeat. Nyx crashed to his knees as the pain consumed him. Disjointed images flashed through his mind.

Nyx could barely focus as the Astral spoke once more. “You are forever changed. Fate will guide you to the end and there will be no hope. All will fade before your eyes.”

“I won’t let you win,” said Nyx, eyes gleaming in determination despite the pain. “I will not bow, I will not break. As the light begins to fade, when all hope begins to shatter, know that I won’t be afraid.”

Ardyn was definitely going to kill him for this, but it was worth it. Nyx knew what he had to do now. He could save them both.

...

So the first snippet is obviously Ardyn visiting Somnus on his deathbed. While not the full 2000 years until the main story timeline, Ardyn has still been cursed and undying long enough to be a little unhinged. Plus, the anger and betrayal is still pretty fresh, so that all influenced my portrayal of him. I didn’t initially plan this, but at the end Ardyn curses Somnus and I got this feeling that having the kings of Lucis bound to the Ring of the Lucii/the Crystal after their death was Ardyn’s fault.

Not really satisfied with the conversation with Bahamut, but by that point I was just done and sick of trying to find suitable lyrics. What I was trying to go for was Bahamut gives Nyx some impossible task and a curse of his own, and if he’s able to break it he can then break Ardyn’s.

...

Other snippets I wanted to write / song lyrics I wanted to use but then got too lazy:

Ardyn’s reaction and subsequent confrontation with Bahamut- Everyday that passes by I develop a new way to hate you. You may think you’re god, but I know you’re a pretender. I see through you and all your lies. You are everything that I despise.

Nyx trying to talk his dad out of doing something ridiculous and Ardyn’s just like- a little mayhem never hurt anyone

...

Songs used if anyone’s interested (listed in order of appearance, although some show up in multiple places in the snippets):

Masquerade/Why So Silent? - Phantom of the Opera, Who - Disturbed, My Sacrifice - Creed, Memory Motel - The Rolling Stones, Dance With the Devil - Breaking Benjamin, Harvester of Sorrow - Metallica, Tyrant - Disturbed, Chalk Outline - Three Days Grace, I’m Still Standing - Elton John, Withered - Atomship, Love Bites (So Do I) - Halestorm, Sorry Not Sorry - Gemini Syndrome, Shame on the Night - Dio, Sweating Bullets - Megadeth, The Pride - Five Finger Death Punch, Off With Her Head - Icon For Hire, Confrontation - Jekyll & Hyde, Planet Hell - Nightwish, Point of No Return - Phantom of the Opera, On Point - Gemini Syndrome, Strangers Like Me - Tarzan, Everybody Wants You - Billy Squier, Rainbow in the Dark - Dio, Just Like You - Three Days Grace, Savior of Nothing - Disturbed, Hellfire - Hunchback of Notre Dame, It’s Not Over - Daughtry, Here Comes Revenge - Metallica, New Sensation - INXS, Your Number is Up - Now and On Earth

One - Metallica, Fade to Black - Metallica, You’re Mine - Disturbed, Majesty - Now and On Earth, Mourning Star - Gemini Syndrome, All My Life - Foo Fighters, Torn in Two - Breaking Benjamin

The Devil in I - Slipknot, Close Your Eyes - Breaking Benjamin, The Kinslayer - Nightwish, Hero - Skillet, Crushcrushcrush - Paramore, The Mirror (Angel of Music) - Phantom of the Opera, Brave and the Bold - Disturbed, I.M. Sin - Five Finger Death Punch, I Will Not Bow - Breaking Benjamin, Writing’s On the Wall - Sam Smith

#ffxv #ficlet #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #somnus lucis caelum #nyx ulric #ardynson #bahamut #i don't know why my brain insisted i write this #song lyrics

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pervasivescariness · 5 years ago

Text

[ A Gathering of Threads]

Part Four: Scars and Regret

( @ivaan-ffxiv )

No sooner than she had sprung upon him, Ivaan's knees finally gave from under him. Metal scraped against stone as the two of them were taken to the ground. Plated arms wrapped about her tightly, not daring to let go, having to know she was there, solid, real. Not some phantasm brought about by whatever item was held in the deeper reaches of this cave... He would not put it past fate to be so cruel. But she did not vanish, or pass through him. She was there in his arms, tears splashing against his armor. Ivaan's armored head buried into the crook of her neck, his whole form rattling as he spoke.

"H-How are... Oh, Bee..." Behind his metallic mask, tears of his own flowed freely, dampening the fabric lining the interior of the helm.

Bee clung to his armored form as tightly as she could, pressing her face to that cold metal without a care, tears flowing freely onto the metal surface. A few twists of hair were caught across her face, tangled up in the hug as she squeezed him tightly. She didn't dare readjust or pull away to move her hair from her face, afraid that if she moved even slightly, he'd simply disappear. Her heart was a raging sea of emotion; the swell of elation crashing into the waves of old despair that had been trudged up anew, everything flooding her at once, stealing her words from her. She could get no more than his name from her lips as she held him, body trembling as she wept in his arms. All these years spent thinking she had lost him for good, imagining life as it could have been had he lived...and here he was now. It was some time before the words returned to her, Bee content enough to just hold Ivaan tightly until her tears began to dry.

When at last she could string together a coherent thought, she spoke, her voice quiet and muffled from where she pressed her face to him, still unwilling to move, "They told me you had died, Ivaan..."

Ivaan squeezed her tighter at her trembling, which shook them both. Her words summoned an odd sense of dread in the youth, perhaps knowing this was just the start of a very long, uncomfortable line of questioning. Entirely justified, of course, but a road he was not prepared to travel down so unexpectedly.

"I very nearly did." Twice... But that would come later. "I imagine the letter you received was penned not long after my parents... after the sickness took them. I was on death's doorstep. They probably thought that I would be long gone by the time the letter reached you all..." He sniffed loudly within his helm, gathering himself, when a sudden thought leapt from him. "What about your mother, your father? Your sisters, are they still alive too?!"

The first pang of anger prickled through Bee at this. How dare they send out a letter like that until they knew for sure? Such an errant action had caused so much distress in not only her but her parents and aunt as well. She remembered the gloom which hung over the house, the deep hurt that wracked her body for weeks thereafter; the tears which stole her voice entirely...All those years spent thinking he was lost to them. The soft fingers of guilt brushed her then; if she had known he were alive, she could have come for him...could have brought him home with her. These emotions began swirling around in her chest as well as her mind began to ask other questions. That prickle of anger became sharper...and was immediately halted by his questions.

She drew in a slow breath, trying to calm her heart and regain some composure, turning her face ever so slightly so that she might speak easier, "They're all fine, they're fine. Mother, Father, Ada and Nihme both..." But not Aunt Zovi... she thought suddenly, a sharp stab of guilt adding to her burdened heart. She chased it away with a happier thought, "...and there's now Pari and Meru too...oh Ivaan it's been nearly a decade! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry about your parents-"

Bee paused, frowning slightly, her mind returning to her previous train of questions. Quite suddenly she pushed away from him, a furious slant to her brow as she held him at arm's length, staring into that faceless helm of his, the heat of anger beginning to boil through her chest. "How come you never told us you were alive?" she demanded of him, ears flat to her head now, a few wayward curls still pulled across her face haphazardly.

Even through the plates that encased him, Ivaan's relief was readily felt as the tension in his spine eased out with a sigh. Good, good... Bee had been spared the heartbreak he had endured twice over. It also explained why they never came for him, as he spent the years in the orphanage, waiting to grow up. His relief was interrupted as she pushed him away, Bee biting into every syllable of her words. Just like she always had when she got mad... It really was her... The question could not be ignored, however, even though he suddenly felt a wave of dread, and guilt, crush over him.

"I..." He looked away, unable to bear her accusing, hurt gaze. "The first couple of years, I could not bring myself to do much of anything... I ate, I did my chores, sat outside with the other kids, and slept. I was in shock." He shook his head, lowering it as he continued. His eyes closed behind the sightless visor, an attempt to shield himself from her gaze, that he might focus enough to gather these most unpleasant of thoughts. "I could not accept what happened. Not for a long time... A year, at least. With time, and help, I started to work through it. Gain some sort of grip on it all. That was when I had written, from the orphanage. But each time, the letters returned to me... With things getting as dangerous as they were, the mail was not able to get through. So I bided my time... Waiting to get big enough to leave, to find you. But things got worse, and worse... Eventually, the older kids that I had grown close to... My second family, in truth... They had decided to join the Wood Wailers upon coming of age. They were all I had left. We were all each other had left. So I faked my age, and joined with them, so we could stay together. We would protect our forest, and each other, make things better... Then things would go back to normal. I could write to you whenever I wanted, let you all know how I was doing, how much I had grown up."

Slowly, his head raised, turning to meet her gaze once more. "Then the Calamity came. The things I heard through the grapevine from traveling adventurers from abroad were bad enough. Sahagin acting up, the Imperials shooting down civilian airships, building bases in La Noscea... I had been worried enough for you all. But after Dalamud dropped... I was positive you were all dead. You had to be. They say Bahamut flew right over Limsa Lominsa. I saw the corrupted crystal formations scattered across the region with my own eyes. I did not dare seek out your village. I was terrified of what I might find if I did." By then, his body had begun to shake anew in her hands as she held him by the shoulders at arms length. "I-I am so sorry, Bee..."

As she listened to him, that fury upon her brow began to soften, the line of anger becoming one of concern. Her fingers clutched his shoulders as she kept him from her at arm's length, body rigid as she took in this new information. Hearing it all, that self righteous anger she had felt bubbling in her heart soon faded, the raging sea calming with the heavy waves of guilt for her silent accusations. It wasn't that he didn't care, that he didn't wish to see them again. Fate had kept them well apart, it seemed, through tragedy and circumstance...If he were to blame, then so too was she. What had become of her plans before Dalamud had come down? That final farewell she had told herself she had to put aside until her work was done...but that was just an excuse, wasn't it? The fact that she feared an absolute end had kept her away. Just as he had not been able to face their potential loss, she had not been able to face the finality in his death. Because there was some part of her, some quiet little hope, that maybe they had been wrong.

She had been unconsciously following a thread through a deep, dark ocean ever since.

At last she bowed her head, closing her eyes as fresh tears began to slip down her cheek. Her fingers relaxed upon his shoulder, no longer gripping him tightly as the curls slipped from where they had caught on her nose to dangle in front of her face. "No...Ivaan. I'm sorry too. Anyone would have thought the same." She frowned again slightly, her mind drifting back to that frightful night, "We couldn't have left, even if we had known you were alive...The village needed them, my parents...my aunt...me, to an extent. All hands on deck, as my father says."

The tiniest of smirks pulled at the corner of her lip as she thought of her father's tendency to speak as a sailor first in all things, "We all played our part to keep everything intact and...to an extent we succeeded, Ivaan. A good portion of the village was in ruins but most everyone...most everyone was alright." She sniffled, giving a bit of a teary laugh which sounded far more bitter than joyous. "I...I could have gone then. Once things were quiet...I could have gone and maybe we might've-"

Bee stopped, at last looking up at him, staring into that featureless helm once more, her thoughts pulled elsewhere. Through all of this he had not once made to remove that eyeless thing, confessing this all from behind a mask as though he were hiding from her. There was a peculiar sort of distance created by it, as though she were merely speaking with a suit of armor. It made her feel strange, gave the whole thing a dreamlike feel and she had to know she wasn't dreaming. Even though she was touching him, there was that biting doubt at the back of her mind. What if this was a cruel trick? She tilted her head slightly, blinking through the few tears which still clouded her eyes.

"Ivaan." she sighed, "Can you take that off? Please. I can' t keep talking to a helmet." Bee looked at him earnestly, pleadingly, "I want to see my friend."

Any feelings of relief that came with the quenching of her fury, of her assurances that the village was largely intact, vanished with her request that he doff his helm. The same distance she found so unnerving, he found comforting, making all of this easier. Like dipping one's toes into a pond before jumping in.

"You will not like what you see." The warning Ivaan stated was as cold as the steel which guarded his scarred face.

The sudden edge to his voice, that flat warning...it sent an abrupt shimmer of doubt through her...one she quickly pushed away. Bee frowned, the glint of familiar determination sparkling behind the remaining tears. In those moments she was certain that nothing he revealed to her could be worse than looking at that dispassionate, faceless helm of his. Perhaps he had a scar or two? Many adventurers did, this was the way of things; scars never bothered her. Perhaps then there was something else wrong? That maybe he grew awkwardly, that pleasant smiling face not quite retaining the charm it had once boasted. It wouldn't matter to her, looks never did; she just needed to see him in the flesh, to know that it was truly him under there. Her mind could not conjure up a single reason why his warning should be heeded.

Bee replied quietly, "I don't care. I want to see your face, Ivaan."

Ivaan said nothing more. He knew that look, even after a decade. There would be no arguing with her at this point, her mind was set. Besides, he would have to take it off eventually. It was not something he was looking forward to, however. His hands drew from her, coming along his jawline towards the back of the helm with practiced ease. Even with his sense of touch dulled behind the leather and metal of his gauntlets, the clasps and latches of the helm were easily found even in the less than optimal lighting of their lanterns and spells. The helm split in half, perpendicular to the plane of his face, and was lifted up and away from his head. The black hood that lay beneath was pulled back, revealing the same warm chestnut hues of his hair that she remembered, but longer and combed back. A quick swipe of his fingers on both of his cheeks whisked away the tears remaining from the initial shock of their reunion, and he lowered the doffed helm away. The round, boyish face she had known was gone. The years, and the trials that they had brought, had sharpened his features like a whetstone to steel... Even in the warm light, he looked gaunt, hardened... tired. His jawline was cut, angular, terminating in a pronounced chin that sported a short tuft of a beard. Above, his lips drew thin, pursed with strain of this moment he so dreaded. It grew worse, the longer the eye dwelled.

On either cheek, a darkened slash of scar tissue, widest from the jawline and growing thinner as it trailed up his face... Pointing straight towards the trough carved diagonally across most of his face, over the bridge of his nose, and up into his forehead. It looked like somebody had taken a spoon and carved it into his flesh, like one would into a pudding. A jagged canyon across his face. The wound had pulled the skin of his brow downward as it had healed, permanently furrowing his brow... Which only made it worse when he finally opened his eyes. The warmth of his golden hues had been honed into something sharp... Their opening was now akin to somebody drawing a knife as he met her gaze. He said nothing... merely waited. Waited for the horror that was about to mar his dearest friend's face at the shock of whom he had become.

<< Three || Five >>

#ffxiv #ff14 #ffxiv rp #rp #balmung #crystal data center #Ivaan Arkwright #Bee Ohkabe #[ Reunion ]#A Gathering of Threads #Part Four: Scars and Regret #A Gathering of Threads Part Four #; A ;

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secret-engima · 5 years ago

Note

I’m sick currently - any rambles or snippets for TttW or FiF? Or any of your verse characters meeting the spitfire that is Sola? (Especially bby!Sola who is pretty much like bby!Cor but with all the possessiveness of a dragon going MINE that hasn’t been somewhat calmed with age)

Welcome to the sick people club! Hope you feel better soon! I do have one snippet left of FiF and then I’m out, but no snips of Thrown to Wolves, sorry.

...

Weskham treated Clarus’s injuries with antiseptic and the remaining two potions, then reheated the tea and coaxed Clarus and Princess Regina to her sprawling bed in the other room, as it was one of the only comfortable pieces of furniture to escape the rampage —he ignored the impropriety of sitting on the Princess’s bed with her, this was not that kind of situation and Clarus did it often enough to remove any awkwardness—. He stiffened despite himself in surprise when Princess Regina nudged him to the right side of the bed with his back against the pillows and headboard and then curled up beneath his left arm, her legs wrapped around one of his, her head resting over his heart, and her hands clutching her cup of tea. Then Clarus flopped down at Regina’s back and began running the fingers of his free hand through her wavy hair while he sipped on the tea with the other.

Weskham accepted the positioning with grace and opened the book he’d snatched out of the demolished pieces of bookshelf. He paused when he realized it was the Cosmogony, then inwardly shrugged. If she didn’t like it, Weskham could always get up and get another. He tilted it so that she could see the sprawling illustrations and began, “Titan, the Archaean, steadfast as stone. Ramuh, the Fulgarian, sharp as lightning. Shiva, the Glacian, gentle as snow. Leviathan, the Hydraean, relentless as tides. Bahamut, the Draconian, unbending as iron. Ifrit, the Infernian, fickle as fire. Since time immemorial, they have watched over Eos…”

He read for what felt like hours. Stopping only to sip on his own tea to keep his throat from rasping. With the same gentle tones and lilting rhythm he remembered from his own childhood, Weskham worked his way through the beginning of the Cosmogony, all the way to the Prophecy of the Crystal. The princess, who had been dozing throughout the last chapter, suddenly snapped awake and alert again, something shivering through her magic that made all of Weskham’s hairs rise and he scrambled to figure out what he had done wrong. Instead of crying or pulling away, she asked softly into the silence, “The Prophecy … is it true?”

Weskham blinked, considered that, “My family believes so, though not many people do anymore. The Prophecy has stood for two thousand years, since the very foundation of Lucis. Most believe that if it hasn’t been fulfilled yet, it never will.”

Princess Regina mulled over that for several long seconds, something old in violet-tinted blue eyes, “Prophecies don’t work on human time. Just their own.”

Weskham shrugged, sipped on the dregs of his long-cooled tea, “That is true. The Prophecy was laid down by the Draconian, and he is immortal. I doubt time is much of an issue for him.”

“So that means someday a ‘Chosen King will be born, with magic untold and the Crystal in his soul, to purge the world of endless night’?”

Weskham mulled over his answer, wondering why the Prophecy had grabbed her attention so thoroughly. But then, a mystery and a fantasy was better than screaming grief, “Yes, I believe so.”

Regina sat up a little more, eyes sharp and inquisitive as she glared at the pages, “How will he do that? How much magic will he have compared to me, or any of the past kings and queens?”

Weskham floundered just a bit, “I … don’t know. The Cosmogony doesn’t say.” At her dark, thoughtful look, Weskham took a chance and murmured, “We can go down to the royal library if you wish, I’m sure there would be more information in there than in this book. This is the cosmogony for the general public, not for scholars or those with more questions than the basic ones.”

He could see her debating silently over it, then she settled, “Tomorrow,” she hummed. “We’ll go down and look tomorrow.” I’m comfortable right now, when unspoken but so clearly heard it might as well have been his own thoughts.

Weskham nodded agreeably, going down to the library tomorrow would give the servants a chance to replace all the furniture without having to come near the princess they now feared and would distract Princess Regina from … everything else, “Alright. Do you want me to keep reading?”

“No.” She curled up more firmly against him, “I want to sleep.”

...

Ramble!

-Sola is in a bad mood when she stumbles across the bookshop. Nobles causing trouble over the royal princess in the glaive, despite the fact that she’s been there for a year now and is quite obviously not leaving no matter what the old fogey’s say. She isn’t sure why she goes into the shop, she’s not looking for anything to read, but it looks like a place to hide and its on the outskirts of the Little Galahd district, so she thinks she’ll probably be safe from the media finding her.

-She steps (stomps) into the shop and pauses at the atmosphere of the place. It’s very quiet. Almost peaceful. There’s an old, mysterious air about it that feels more like it should be in a storybook setting than a real location. Momentarily distracted from her bad mood, Sola eyes the shop with its overfilled shelves and vaguely arcane-shaped armchairs and wonders if a creepy old man shopkeeper with a cane is going to come out and spout nonsense at her.

-She hears the tap of a cane, but instead of a creepy old man, it’s a young woman with black hair and blue eyes so dark they’re nearly black. The woman pauses at the sight of Sola and Sola braces for the bowing and scraping and “your highness”ing that always comes when recognized. Instead the woman just sighs and leans on her cane, “You look,” she comments “Like someone who just had to deal with very annoying know it all for a few hours.”

-Sola blinks. The woman takes it as an affirmative, “You can read any book you want, but if you aren’t going to buy it, make sure to put it back where you found it. I have multiple blends of tea if that is your thing, I do not sell coffee. There are cookies and pastries for the hungry, though my flavors change every week. Currently I have lemon cookies and chocolate croissants.”

-”Who are you?” Sola asks, blunt as ever, because something about this woman seems familiar and its driving her crazy.

-The woman just scoffs and moves to the nearest armchair to sit down, “Cyra. The owner of this shop. Now, what kinds of things would you like to read?”

-Sola ends up spending the afternoon there with a cranky shopkeeper and a lot of good books about ancient sword techniques that she suspected might be hold enough to be illegal. The woman never comments on Sola being the princess, and Sola never outright asks why the woman feels so familiar. The woman mentions having a husband in the Kingsglaive, then just laughs when Sola asks which moron she was unlucky enough to marry. Cyra winks and tells Sola to take a wild guess sometime, who knows, she might guess right. Sola leaves with three ancient books to read and a bet to win.

-She goes back the next week only to find that the shop is gone. She never does figure out which glaive the woman claimed to be her husband. Sometimes Sola wonders if the woman was real at all.

... One more ramble!

-There is a tiny child trying to her absolutely hardest to murder him.

-She’s very cute.

-Now if he could just figure out how she’s here and why she has magic, that would be great. Oh wait-

-Nox calmly looks up at the Cor who just burst into the room with his sword in hand, not bothering to react to the tiny child trying vainly to pin his arm and maybe bite through his long sleeves, “I think,” he greets politely with a flicker of blue LC magic to prove his identity, “That I am in the wrong Citadel.”

-Yes, it turns out he is in the wrong Citadel, and that the small child trying (still) to murder him is named Sola. She is Noctis’s big sister. Cute. The Regis of this dimension does not find her attempted fratricide nearly as cute, possibly because he's worried of how Nox will react and forcibly picks her up and holds her out of reach. Nox introduces himself with magic again, Regis goes pale at the discovery that in another dimension he had a child out of wedlock. Still, he DOES look like Regis and he DOES have LC magic, they have no reason to disbelieve him.

-The girl, who’s name is Sola, pauses in her attempts at murder during the conversation of where Nox will stay till this matter is sorted and goes, “He’s a brother?”

-Regis grimaces, “Yes, Sola he’s ... a brother. Of a sort.”

-And Nox watches in fascination as a switch goes off in the girl’s head and she stops flailing and instead stares at Nox like a baby dragon that just spotted a shiny, “I have two brothers?”

-Cor sighs like he knows where this is going, “Not specifically-.”

-“I have two brothers.” And that appears to be that.

-Nox spends the visit with Sola basically glued to his side, alternating between rabid overprotectiveness of the sibling she is SOMEHOW convinced is still her younger brother despite being much taller than her and trying to get him to teach her fighting tricks.

-Nox is gonna miss this scamp when he goes home, he just knows it.

#SE asks #a-world-in-grey asks #Secret Engima Rambles #Forged in Fury verse #Seer LC verse #Nox verse

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friendshipcampaign · 5 years ago

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Session Recap 11/24/19: The Truth Will Be Brought to Light

Voski cast Dancing Lights at a distance, forming them into a humanoid shape, and tried drawing the creatures towards it as a distraction. Sure enough, they galloped after it -- revealing that their bodies looked and moved in a way that felt somewhat “off” -- which allowed the party to sneak past them and get to the tomb. There were heavy canvas walls set up blocking it off, but Amaranth was able to cut through them easily and the party snuck inside.

There was a downwards drop to get to the tomb. At the bottom were two slender white pillars, covered in eye and wing motifs, and a closed door about fifteen feet below. Kriv asked Volfred if he would hold the rope ladder to allow them to get down to the entrance, and the party all descended. Amaranth searched the entrance for traps of any kind and noted that the chain across it gave off a faint glow if you went to try to pick it, signifying that it was likely Alarmed. Voski was able to disarm it using Dispel Magic, however, and Amaranth then picked the lock.

As he approached the door, Kriv cast Detect Evil and Good and was able to pick up on an aura of consecration on the tomb -- and overwhelming desecration around it as a result the Abyssal breach. Once the party were inside, the Abyssal whispering that had surrounded them since they entered the exclusion zone vanished. It was a small space. Voski cast Dancing Lights again in order to see in the darkened tomb, revealing a sarcophagus and a statue of what appeared to be a heavy-set human man, un-bearded with curly hair and wearing armor with an insignia of eyes in a circle on the front. His hands were locked in a symbol that mimicked wings, and looked like they had held the sword. Up on the ceiling was a circle of painted eyes and wings with a mysterious, smoothed blank spot in the center. There were two plaques written in Celestial.

Erwyn went over to read one of the plaques, which said that the tomb held the body of Auster. But there was a strange missing spot where it looked like the name of the deity the hero had served was meant to be. He relayed this to the group and Kriv, who was incredibly excited by all this, scribbled some notes down in a notebook he was carrying with him. Erwyn then went to read the other plaque, which seemed to have slightly less professional craftsmanship. This one read:

“When the seeker of truth offers sacrifice in the high temple, then shall the truth be brought to light, and her eyes shall be opened, and her wings shall shelter us once more.”

Kriv tried using the Rhymer’s Ring to cast “Divine Sight” but again only saw the blurred image of a female figure with wings surrounding her head like a crown, that almost hurt to look at, when he focused on any images related to the deity. For just one moment, however, the image flickered and became clear, and she turned her face, opening a face full of eyes to look at him, and he felt (but didn’t actually hear) the message “The truth will be brought to light” resounding through his body.

Trying to explain what had happened to the rest of the party, Kriv scribbled a rudimentary sketch of the goddess in his notebook. With this revelation, the party discussed the potential connection between the deity and the demons now in the city, but still didn’t have enough information to come to a conclusion. Erwyn decided to try casting Detect Magic and was nearly overwhelmed by the amount of magical energy in the room. The statue had a strong Transmutation energy to it, and the rest of the stone of the whole tomb was steeped in Abjuration magic that felt almost as if it was pulsing, like a faint heartbeat. There was also the incredibly strong magical residue of some powerful Conjuration magic, that seemed to be centered on the two plaques and the empty spot on the ceiling (though it was present throughout).

The party discussed among themselves the likelihood that the goddess had sealed herself away, or if she had somehow been erased. They also talked about the fact that none of them, even the three who had lived in Veritas before, had ever heard of a High Temple in the city -- only the Low Temple (although Voski then had a moment of wracking her brains trying to figure out why the locals still called it that, if this place had been forgotten). In fact, religion always had a weirdly difficult time sticking in Veritas.

Voski commented that it seemed like the Raliv Mercantile Company had a vested interest in the sword that had been found in the tomb, since people associated with swords were going missing. On the other hand, Erwyn said that he had been wondering if the blacksmith really had been taken by demons, musing about the shadow creature that had tried to take him the other night.

While the group talked, Kriv started investigating the sarcophagus. He noted an odd spot in the corner that seemed to have a joint not as precise as the other stonework. He suggested they open it. Amaranth teased him that he was becoming a criminal like the rest of them and he added that he wasn’t entirely happy about the idea, but he wanted to know what was going on. After a cursory inspection, Amaranth deemed it safe to open. She, Kriv, and Ditto all tried to push the stone on top away, with Voski inspiring Amaranth in her attempt.

Suddenly, the statue sprang to life, bearing its fists down at Amaranth. She dodged out of the way of its first attack, as it was somewhat off-balance from not realizing it was missing its sword, but it made contact with the second attempt and slammed her into the wall of the tomb. The statue called out, “Quid queritis?” in Celestial.

“Kriv, talk to it,” Ditto called out. “Tell it you’re with Bahamut!”

“I don’t think that’s going to work!” he called back.

Kriv then aimed his hammer at the statue’s hands, managing to smash into it with two strikes as he positioned himself protectively in front of Amaranth. The statue barely flinched. Voski then cast Shatter on it, and though the statue was shaken, it still stood tall -- and continued to repeat its question in the same exact intonation. Amaranth scurried towards the door, shouting to the others to run towards the exit, with Ditto running after her. Erwyn started to follow, but first turned back to the statue and shouted out the Celestial translation of: “The truth will be brought to light!”

The statue stopped and turned, looking directly at him. “Quid queritis?” it asked.

Erwyn replied that they only wanted to know the truth, and the name of the goddess. And the statue stopped, walked back to its place, and became inanimate once more. The party collectively breathed a sigh of relief as Erwyn explained that the statue had asked what they were looking for and had responded to his honestly that they were seeking the truth. Kriv used Lay on Hands to heal Amaranth some and Voski also used a Cure Wounds on her. The party then discussed whether there was anything else they wanted to investigate before they leave, and apprehensively, Erwyn suggested that he was interested in trying to use his portal-detecting abilities to get more of an idea of what was going on in Veritas. He said he was concerned it would be overwhelming, but that since the temple seemed somewhat sheltered from the Abyssal energies that were all over the rest of the city, it might be the safest place to try to get more information.

Shakily, Erwyn put his hands to his head and tried to focus as he reached out to sense the planar energy around him. The first thing that hit him was the remnants of the breach that had occurred months ago, fortunately no longer active but still somewhat overwhelming. He shuddered and his ears twitched. But as he pushed his senses further, he found that he sensed another source of Abyssal energy -- stronger, more active. A minor breach, that felt slimy to his mind. And then another one -- this felt darker, emptier, and colder, and reminded him of being inside the Ring of Mindshielding. And then, after he steadied himself and pushed to the edges of his perception, a third Abyssal breach -- all within the city of Veritas.

Erwyn collapsed, falling to his knees. Kriv steadied him, grabbing his shoulders, as Erwyn explained to the group that he’d felt three more active breaches, all drawing from different layers of the Abyss. Voski asked if he felt like he could describe what those layers had felt like to someone else and he began to explain the breaches to the others and describe what he’d felt. As Erwyn continued to speak, Kriv squeezed his shoulder tighter. Voski suggested that if they wanted to learn more about the Abyss, the yochlol at the tavern might be able to tell them more -- particularly if they retrieved what she was looking for. They also agreed they needed to alert the Gatekeepers. And Erwyn expressed that he was concerned about the number of portals -- three of them, just like the three eyes that were the cult’s symbol.

The group went to leave the tomb. When the last of them left, the statue’s posture relaxed slightly and it raised its eyes towards the ceiling once more.

Erwyn, still wobbly, struggled a little with the rope ladder, but Kriv supported him as he climbed. At the top, Volfred noted that Amaranth was still looking a little rough after getting attacked and nuzzled her gently with his nose. As the group emerged from the canvas enclosure that marked off the tomb, however, Erwyn noted that the creatures that had been lurking around the tomb were better hidden this time. He messaged Voski about distracting them and she cast a Dancing Lights in the distance once more, but only a few of them broke off to chase it this time.

“Hey!” a voice called. “Stand your ground, idiots!”

Voski extinguished her lights.

A strange, misshapen creature -- looking like it was formed from dead body parts, with an arm sticking out of its head -- stepped forward and asked which one of the party had spotted them. Erwyn slowly raised his hand, but Voski pushed it down. It then asked if there was any chance of the party laying down all of their things and letting the creatures eat them, commenting that they looked delicious. As it chatted with them, saying that there weren’t a lot of good conversationalists around, Ditto tried and failed to charm it. As the conversation with the creature continued, Voski asked if she could step closer to share a secret with it -- for the purpose of negotiations, of course. It warned her that the other creatures being scared of it was the only thing keeping them in line, but agreed.

Voski stepped forward, making sure her back was turned to the party, and opened up a pocket in her armor to show it the broach with the symbol of Lolth she’d been given, saying that she didn’t have time for this, and it if didn’t get out of their way and let them pass, it wouldn’t have time to explain itself. The creature seemed surprised.

“Oh, okay. Got a…. sponsor then,” it said, sounding scared -- and more than a little disappointed.

As Voski stepped back, the creature called out to the other ones in Abyssal. They begrudgingly started to move away from the party, licking their lips and looking very disappointed. Voski waved at them. As she returned to the others, they all clamored to know what she had done, but she was tight-lipped as usual, even with Ditto zipping around asking her if she had done something magical or was just that persuasive.

The party started to move in the direction Voski had sensed the harp earlier. It lead them closer to the epicenter of the area where the breach had occurred, the dark Abyssal water growing deeper as they went. Once they were within a reasonable range, Voski cast Locate Object once more. She was able to lead them to the place where it was resting, but unfortunately it seemed that it was underneath the waters that had flooded the street. Voski and Ditto, who intended to Levitate the harp if at all possible, moved closer, carefully navigating the rubble in the area to avoid falling too deeply into the waters.

Voski cast Dancing Lights again and placed one right over where she sensed the harp, to signify where it was to Ditto. The wizard conjured a tool to clear off some of the algae in that spot and Voski sent her light underwater to illuminate what was down there. It revealed a nice leather case, clearly magical in some way as it seemed to have protected its cargo. Ditto Levitated it out of the water, revealing the traditional drow spiderweb designs on the vibrantly-colored case. She was then able to push it to the shore and gently lower it to the ground. As Voski started making her own way back, she stepped on a board that shattered and dropped her into the water. As some of the strange vines started coiling around her legs, Ditto cast another Levitate to get her safely out of harm’s way. Voski hissed at the vines.

Once everyone was safely on the shore, Voski asked if Ditto had felt anything strange when she’d touched the case. She reported she hadn’t, and deemed it was probably safe to carry around. Kriv opened up the demiplane so that they could transport it safely as they made their way out of the exclusion zone.

They started to make their way towards the entrance and reached the deep pool of Abyssal water they’d had to cross earlier. Ditto offered to cast Fly on a couple of party members to get them across and Amaranth immediately shouted that she wanted to be able to fly. Ditto explained that unfortunately she only had two castings, so whoever got it cast on them would have to carry someone else, but promised Amaranth that she would cast the spell on her later. Instead, Voski picked her up while Kriv scooped Erwyn up like a baby, and the spell was cast on the two dragonborn. Amaranth was disappointed that Voski didn’t do anything fun with the spell and just ferried her across. Meanwhile, Kriv took things relatively gently with Erwyn but still seemed to be enjoying the spell -- and once he dropped him off, darted around a little more, with Ditto delightedly joining him, before the spell ran out.

The party made their way out of the entrance to the exclusion zone, only to be greeted by an entire flock of the demonic pigeons watching the area -- and them -- from above. However, they were still able to sneak across town to their hiding place just fine. Additionally, as soon as they stepped pass the barrier, the intensity of the Abyssal presence relented, which was a significant relief to the group.

Once they were in the basement they had scouted out earlier as a good place to spend the night, Voski cast Tiny Hut for an extra level of safety. She also pulled out her scale care kit to start attending to some of the grime from the exclusion zone, as Ditto conjured a scrub brush and Kriv pulled out soap for everyone else to use. Tiktik had rejoined the group after they left the exclusion zone and Ditto filled them in on everything that had happened, petting them a lot as she did. Kriv and Amaranth both sent messages to the Gatekeepers via the Infinite Library -- the former asking about the goddess and sharing what they’d learned about her, and the latter updating them on the situation with the new portals.

Ditto asked Erwyn if he was able to detect portals outside of the city of Veritas, and he informed her his abilities only allowed him to pick up on planar interference about a mile out. She then cast a Sending to Nilo, to let him know that she and the rest of the party had gotten out of the exclusion zone okay.

“Hey Ditto, you did some great stuff today,” he replied, “And your friends? They’re just amazing! We’re so grateful that you had them come along, it was--”

As she was out of spells for the night, it was only to herself, but Ditto still spoke aloud again to say “I know.”

#session recap

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chrysalispen · 5 years ago

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x. the mirror of malicious eyes

When Aurelia next awakened the only indication of a chance from night to daytime was the angle of a thin sliver of light, shimmering fitfully betwixt a stray crack in the wall’s mortar. She stirred, shivered from the damp chill in the air, and tilted her chin curiously at the sleeping man whose head lolled on her right shoulder. Her cursory inspection of the cramped cell, now dimly lit, showed that this was the sleeping arrangement for everyone: shoulder to shoulder for warmth, if not protection.

A glance into the other two cells confirmed that she was the only Garlean who appeared to be participating in this endeavor. The men in the other two cells had isolated themselves, sitting stiffly back to back against the walls, separate from the others.

“Good morning, my lady,” a voice said to her left.

She turned her head to address the speaker with a strained smile. The owner of the voice was a pretty Midlander woman with straight midnight-black hair, cropped to regulation length. She was holding something in her hands, and Aurelia caught a scent that roused a bodily demand she’d almost forgotten she had.

“Hiro and I saved you some of the rations. The guards brought it by a few bells past, but you were sleeping so soundly you didn’t stir.”

Aurelia blinked at the trencher’s contents. It was some kind of simple stew, lentils and sliced sausage in a thin broth with a rough-cut hunk of dark brown bread.

“It’s gone cold,” the woman continued apologetically, but Aurelia paid no heed. She was already tearing out a piece of bread and soaking it in the broth to soften it, then scooping out a heap of lentils and meat to shovel into her mouth. The food was in fact cold and the lentils overcooked, but she couldn’t remember the last proper meal she’d actually had. It felt like the best thing she’d ever tasted.

“Thank you,” she managed once she’d eaten enough to silence the feral gnashing of her hunger. “How long was I asleep?”

“I think… three full changes of the guard? It was a very long time. The woman with the knives said you’d been conscripted to work in the infirmary back at their camp, so we thought it best to let you sleep. She’s been coming down to watch them, said she was making sure they only do what they’re supposed to do.”

“You could have awakened me. I don’t want to be a bur-”

“Beg pardon, my lady, but there’s barely any room for one set of feet to walk,” was the blunt response. “It’s true we could have awakened you, but ‘tis easier for all concerned to simply bring you aught that’s needful.”

She felt the urge to argue, but let it go. The woman had a point–their quarters, or what passed for quarters, were so cramped that there was little enough room to stand and sit.

“What’s your name?” she asked instead.

“Sayaka jen Hanamori, my lady. I’m - I was - part of the Fifth Cohort signal corps.”

“Sayaka. Is that an Othardian name?”

“I hail from Doma, my lady.”

“Please,” Aurelia winced, “don’t call me 'my lady.’ I’m neither your mistress nor your commanding officer.”

“But you are pureblooded, my lady,” Sayaka said patiently, as if that explained everything.

“…Well, yes, but that doesn’t-”

The rattling clank of metal on stone interrupted them, followed by the creak of the door’s turning hinges. Sayaka immediately froze in place, her gaze cast down to the rushes as an indistinct figure peered between the bars with a torch held aloft. And then Aurelia herself tensed, for she recognized the face that was looking in on them. It was one of the Ala Mhigan men from the cart, the pair who’d harassed her before Bryn’s underling had interfered.

His eyes swept over her as if she were invisible and the light passed along.

After the door closed both women sighed in unison, paused, looked at each other, and grinned. It was a grim sort of camaraderie to be sure, but when Sayaka spoke again she seemed a bit less diffident than before.

“They’ve been coming in every half-sun or so,” she muttered. “Everyone’s been wondering what the Eorzeans are planning to do with us. You wouldn’t happen to have heard anything, would you?”

“I remember hearing rumors about a trial of some sort. Beyond that, I know as much as the rest of you.”

The Doman engineer didn’t say anything for a long time. All she could hear was the slow shuffle of the other woman’s feet in the soiled rushes. In one of the other blocks, someone else coughed, then sniffled, then went silent.

“A trial,” Sayaka said, and she could hear the note of fear there. “You don’t think…”

“Think what?”

“No, my lady, forgive me. 'Tis naught.”

“I’m not your lady. What were you going to say?”

With clear reluctance that pretty face tilted upwards to look at her, dark brown eyes wide. “…You don’t think they’ll just sentence the lot of us to hang, do you?”

The question chilled her. No one in the camp had seemed to want to address anything beyond the immediate needs of the wounded, when she’d been there. Even Bryn had been closemouthed, stating only that it wasn’t her responsibility what the command actually decided to do with any prisoners. That lack of clarity didn’t exactly inspire much confidence, but she didn’t want to say so. The Doman conscript looked to be near tears as it was.

“I don’t have anything against the Eorzeans at all,” Sayaka said plaintively, before Aurelia could answer. “I was a good student and I learned very quickly, so I was able to secure a sponsor to send me and my brother to the capitol. For our schooling, you know- and I thought perhaps if I joined the imperial army and earned my citizenship I might be able to help the people in my village. I didn’t think…”

She nodded. "I know."

“I never would have hurt anyone. I haven’t even laid hand to a weapon since basic.”

“So that’s it, then,” someone else said. “We’re waiting to see if we live or die.”

“Assuming they ever plan to let us see the light of day again,” a gloomy retort echoed from the cell next to theirs, this from one of the other Garleans. “For all any of us know, the savages might’ve bloody well decided to let us rot down here.”

They could do that, she knew. She didn’t think they would, but they could. They could simply let them starve to death down here and no one would be the wiser- and she hoped that notion hadn’t occurred to any of their captors. The Spire was such an isolated location that it could be weeks before anyone thought to check and see how they were faring. If anyone remembered they had been sent here at all.

But what choice did they have save to hope for the best?

~*~

Kan-E-Senna was angry.

To Raubahn Aldynn, who had known the Elder Seedseer for several years and had never known the outwardly mild-mannered woman to even raise her voice save on very rare occasions, it was a remarkable experience. Her eyes were fever-bright and her cheeks rosy and the air about her small frame fair seemed to crackle with energy, as if the Greenwrath itself were contained within her bones.

Merlwyb Bloefhiswyn’s countenance was like a thunderstorm to Kan-E-Senna’s fire: her pale brow knit in a fierce scowl, arms folded in a defiant yet defensive posture across her chest. “I was under the impression that the Levy was under *my* authority. I am *not* going to pull personnel when our numbers are far outstripped as it is!”

“Surely we have enough-”

“Seedseer, I’m aware you mislike the way this has been handled. But what’s done is done. You can make any decision you like with the people under your authority, but Commodore Sletteidin made the same call I would have made in his position.”

The smaller woman took a deep, visible breath, clearly trying to rein in her ire.

“To those souls we granted succor upon the Flats,” she said, “I have already given my word that they will never see the wrong side of a gaol cell. I did this because our plan will not work if we cannot prove our word can be trusted.”

“Then what do you suggest? I’m not going to have imperial prisoners given the run of the camp. I wanted all of these people watched and kept from running to the XIVth, and that is easier done from a holding cell.”

She looked out over the muddy remains of the Foreign Levy’s interim encampment in silence. After a near moon spent here in cleanup, they could afford to tarry no longer despite the widespread destruction that still remained. Their people needed all the hands that could be spared for disaster relief. Now that preparations had been finalized at home, all three leaders of the Grand Companies had given orders to make preparations for departure. Rites had been said over the last of the bodies retrieved from the battlefield, the pyres burnt until the coals had died to embers, and the ashes blown across the land by the southern winds.

The process had been a slow one in part because most of Mor Dhona had been left a crystalline wasteland. Aldenard’s aetherial balance had been badly upset by the Calamity; cold storms better suited to the late fall months had raged off and on for the past fortnight, though without the blizzards that had blanketed Coerthas in heavy snows. Entire swathes of the rainforest had been destroyed, and the area around Silvertear Lake had been flash-burnt by Bahamut’s flares, the ambient aether crystallizing in an instant and half the mountain range itself crumbling beneath the onslaught.

Those who had been held at the camp upon the Seedseer’s arrival had been removed from it nearly as soon as she had seen to their hurts, as if it had been planned specifically due to her presence. Hence her wrath, Raubahn knew. She felt she had been made to give a promise that it appeared she had immediately broken, and he couldn’t fault her frustration any more than he could fault Merlwyb’s logic.

Deciding to break the impasse as the third voice, he cleared his throat until he was certain he had their attention.

“Do we know exactly how many were taken prisoner by the Levy?” he asked Merlwyb. “Conscripts and Garleans separately?”

“At last count the Levy itself held nine Garlean prisoners all told, eight men, one woman. Most our people encountered were officers who chose either to attempt escape, attack the rescue squads, or take their own lives rather than surrender. As far as the full headcount, I couldn’t say off the top of my head.”

“Where are they being held?”

“The Emerald Spire.” Merlwyb pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’ll request an exact number. Linkpearl communications are still unstable, but I think if we keep them brief there shouldn’t be a problem obtaining that information quickly.”

“Seedseer, do you know roughly how many of the prisoners Gridania would be able to take in?”

“Twoscore, perhaps. That’s in addition to all the injured conscripts we have already taken as wards of the Twin Adder. I don’t know that we have the resources at present to support many more.” She sighed, bowed her head, and he knew she was thinking of the people who had been lost in the partial destruction of the city. “Should it be needful later, we can certainly revisit that number. Full well do I know you and the Admiral bear your own burdens, and I would not add to them.”

He nodded.

“The Admiral’s exactly right about the logistics, mind,” he said. “I don’t think it’d be advisable to move them again before a decision is made, for a number of reasons. So instead of trying to shift them all about and figure out which group should go to which camp and risk muddying the waters further- 'tis my thinking that we should go to them. Will the space have the capacity to host these proceedings?”

“Most of the Spire has lain in ruins this past score of years,” Merlwyb said, “or so I’m told. But the keep itself, along with its gaol, has been in continuous use by the Twin Adder as a watchtower and is still usable. There should be at least one space that can serve our purposes.”

“We will need judges.”

“Aye, but only three more souls to serve on the panel, I should think. We have other matters to attend; 'twould be best for all concerned to bring this to a swift conclusion.”

“And should anyone wish to speak in defense of any of these poor sods, they’ll have the chance to do it. Aye, that includes the Garleans,” Raubahn said, at the sight of Merlwyb’s lifted brows. “Much as I mislike it, we owe it to ourselves to be as evenhanded as possible.”

She appeared to mull this over for a moment, lips pursed in thought, before slowly nodding.

“I suppose I’ve no objections,” the Admiral allowed at last. “Though I doubt the Garlean prisoners are going to like our terms.”

“Then that is their choice,” he said. “We'll let them be the masters of their own fates.”

~*~

The days and nights had long since blended into each other, a monotony of dim light and fouled rushes and broken sleep broken only by meager rations and the intermittent visits of the guards. Lu didn’t say anything to her even in passing, just kept a watchful eye on soldiers and prisoners alike, and Aurelia understood that matters had not changed between them, regardless of the woman’s connection to a mutual friend. She’d receive no aid from the Miqo'te in either direction save the bare minimum. It was disheartening, but not surprising.

At first she had tried to track the days by the number of times the guards changed, but she soon lost track of that, and the light between the mortar cracks was even less reliable due to the unseasonably cold and violent storms that rolled frequently through the area. Once or twice she heard one of the guards mutter something about odd aether in passing, but she wasn’t sure if they were talking about the weather or something else, and none of them were friendly enough for her to attempt to ask.

One dreary morning the rattle of keys and the opening door woke her out of a feverish doze - between the damp chill and the constant slow leak in the mortar, everyone on the block was nursing an incipient cold, Aurelia included - and a fist slammed against the metal bars of the gaol cell.

“Look alive, Garlean, you’ve a visitor.”

She coughed, shifting herself into something resembling a sitting position, and blinked owlishly at the Elezen man staring in at her. His expression was utterly neutral but the shifting of his feet betrayed his impatience.

“Well, hurry it along, then,” he said. “We don’t got all day.”

Sayaka helped her to her feet and handed her the crutches. The Doman’s face was a picture of concern, but she didn’t speak as she watched the Garlean woman she’d cautiously befriended make her careful way over the floor to the cell door. The tumbler turned with a hollow click and the barred door was opened just enough to let her limp across the threshold.

The guardsman gestured with a jerk of his chin. “This way.”

Aurelia followed, trying not to flinch at the slamming of the wooden door behind her and wondering who on earth would have come here to see her specifically. Bryn perhaps, but she couldn’t think of anyone else who would have taken especial interest in an imperial prisoner. She limped carefully behind the man up a set of stairs to the main floor, where she saw-

“Sparrow!”

The Roegadyn stood with his arms folded across his broad chest at the threshold of a closed door that led into one of the long-unused rooms inside the keep. His hazel eyes lit up with something like relief at the sight of her. He was not in the scarlet colors of the Maelstrom any longer; he wore a suit of well-used leather armor, his axe strapped over his back.

“You’ve a half bell,” the guard said briskly at her back. “Make the best of your time.”

Once the door had snicked shut behind him, Sparrow reached out to embrace her, walking aids and all.

“Glad t'see you hale an’ whole, lass.”

“Both of those states are debateable,” she said wryly, “but I still breathe for the time being. How long have I been here?”

“Not quite three weeks. Camp’s breakin’ down to roll out. We’ve done about all we can do at the Flats for now. As far as you and yours go, a panel of judges arrived at first light this morning for the hearings. There was some sort o’ miscommunication - that’s why you've been here so long - but it’s mostly been sorted.” His worried expression didn’t change. “They’ve allowed any folk what want to speak on behalf of the prisoners to make statements.”

“So then the rumor was true? We’re all to stand trial?”

“Eh? Aye, that’s so.” Sparrow scratched the back of his head, looking somewhat abashed. “But if you’re worried about gettin’ rotten fruit thrown at you or the like, don’t. It won’t be a spectacle. Just you and the panel and character witness statements from whomever decided to put in a good word for you. Bryn’ll have given hers, and me an’ Captain Brudevelle already gave ours. You’ve a goodly number of folks in your corner, lass, as it happens.”

She stared down at the stones beneath her feet.

“You’ve never really answered my question, Sparrow.”

“What question?”

“Why are you always going out of your way for me? We barely know each other; most would call us enemies, in fact. And yet you’ve shown me nothing but the utmost consideration.”

For once Cheerful Sparrow, whose lighthearted personality so often seemed to be so fitting of his name, appeared at a loss. He opened his mouth as if he meant to speak, then shut it, then opened it again. This time a sigh issued forth and an old pain flickered at the corners of his eyes, deepening the lines in his face. It muted his smile somewhat, rather like a cloud that had drifted across the afternoon sun.

“My daughter,” he said at last, “was very much like you.”

Her grip on the crutches was so tight her knuckles had gone colorless. She peered up at him, very carefully, eyes half-hidden beneath dirty fringe.

“Her name was Yellow Daisy- looked just like her ma. She was serious and dutiful and very kind, had plans to travel south to Ul'dah and study at their Phrontistery once she came of age. Fair bit of a presence; I could pick her laugh out of a room of hundreds. After my wife’s passing, I took up mercenary work for the extra coin - like aught else in that city, schooling of that sort costs money. I used to worry she resented me for always bein’ gone on jobs, but if she did she never said so.”

“You say 'was.’ What did she… what happened to her?”

His smile trembled in place.

“When the Garleans first arrived in Eorzea, they drove out a host of smallfolk from their villages an’ farmholds an’ took that land to build their fortresses. Most folk fled to towns and cities, but some turned to banditry. Daisy came across an overturned cart in the road one day on her way home from market and tried to help, not knowin’ it were just a ruse. Gave 'em her food, but they didn’t believe her when she said she had no coin. So…”

“Oh, no,” she breathed, “they-”

“The Yellowjackets sent word by linkpearl. I left Cap'n L'sazha’s crew at port with our job half done so I could go home and bury my only child. She was nineteen summers.” She felt the warm weight of his hand on her shoulder. “Now before you go an’ start blamin’ yourself, you should know that Daisy’s death was no more your doin’ than mine.”

“Why?” Another lost life that could be laid squarely at the feet of her people. “Gods’ sake, Sparrow! Why don’t you hate me?”

“Why should I? You’ve not a malicious bone in your body, lass. I saw that much the night we found you. You freely offered to help when you knew your skills were needed.”

“How do you know I didn’t simply do that to save myself?”

“Have you known, at any time, what we planned to do with you?” When she shook her head, he asked, “Then why would you help us?”

"I had to."

"Why?"

She sighed.

“Because if I know I can help, I can't make myself ignore it. The woman who raised me used to call it my curse.“

"Aye, your Empire would see that as a weakness, I expect. But that kindness takes a special sort o’ strength. Especially when refusin’ to turn your back on folk in need oft repays a body with naught save even more trouble.”

“Well,” Aurelia said with a mirthless laugh, “I expect that shall prove true enough, anyroad. Taking the part of a Garlean prisoner - particularly under present circumstances - is in fact liable to be troublesome for you.”

“ 'Tis like to be troublesome for me an’ Bryn both,” he agreed. The hand on her shoulder gave a gentle squeeze. “But I couldn’t help my daughter. I have a chance to help you and I mean to take it. So I’ll not be lookin’ away, either.”

“You’re a good man, Sparrow.” Her throat felt so raw and tight she could barely choke the words out. “Would that we had been on the same side of this pointless bloody war.”

“Had we been fightin’ on the same side, lass, 'tis unlikely we’d have ever met like this.”

She bowed her head. That was true enough.

“Can you promise me one thing about tomorrow?” she ventured. “Please? Just one thing?”

“What is it?”

Aurelia chewed on her lip, her gaze shifting towards the closed door. “The other prisoners,” she said. “The conscripts, I mean. I know you can’t simply set everyone free, but most of them were given no choice in joining the army and I doubt anyone will listen to me. They deserve a chance as much as I do, if not more.”

Sparrow smiled.

“Still not a thought for your own neck,” he said gently, as the guard opened the door to come take her back to the cell. “I’ll do what I can, lass, I promise.”

#reborn by fire #chapter 10 #i'm working on part 11 for a back to back post so this isn't going up on AO3 until i'm done with it #chrysalispen writes #yet another self indulgent WoL backstory fic #aurelia laskaris #garlean warrior of light

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