#another sort of revised and rewritten idea from my massive google doc of notes

[elliewiltarwyn]

FFXIV Write 2023 | Prompt #14: Clear

TIL i use clear as an adjective and adverb way too much

-1164 words

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“But do not think I reserve all of my scorn for Cid nan Garlond… adventurers.”

Nero tol Scaeva curls his gauntlet in front of his masked face. “Certainly, that Lord van Baelsar desires him at his side stings. Indeed, the thought that he would desire any such fool, one who has also made clear their lack of interest in ruling this blighted land, rankles.” And then his masked visage turned slightly to Elilgeim’s right. Towards Mia. “And you, traitor, are no exception.”

What? Elilgeim blinks rapidly, curling her fingers tighter around the haft of her cane. Traitor?

And then Nero moves, faster than any of them expects—it may be because of jets or boosters on his armor, but Elilgeim can’t see—and slams to a stop right in front of Mia, his gauntlet crackling with levin and glowing with energies, and he curls his fingers and delivers a fierce punch to the direct center of Mia’s brow; she cries out and staggers backwards onto her knees, clutching at the struck spot with her left hand. “Mia!” Lilyana shouts, and Elilgeim focuses her energies and slams a small blast of wind forward; Nero’s still too quick though, and he jets backwards, the blast flying by harmlessly. Lily capitalizes, lunging forward with knives bared, but he raises his hand and an electronic signal emanates from it, just before a massive jet-propelled iron hammer slams into the floor between them. Lily yelps and skids to a stop, and Elilgeim focuses again, drawing upon her curative spells this time—then stops herself, confused.

Mia’s not actually injured—from a solid punch to the face. How in the…

“When were you going to tell them?” Nero demands, grasping his hammer and hefting it over his shoulder. “When were you going to let your Eorzean allies know you hail from the very nation attempting to stomp them out… Maia jen Asina?”

Time itself seems to stop as Elilgeim—and Lilyana too, judging by the way her ears flatten against her head—processes what he means. Then she snaps her gaze over to Mia, who remains on her knees panting through clenched teeth and glaring at Nero with eyes blazing with fury. Underneath her hand, still resting over the spot where he struck her, is a strange shimmering wave that bends the light and warps the air. It takes her a second to narrow down that it’s the sort of phenomenon that appears over entities or clothes when a glamouring spell is cast upon them… or removed. But as far as she can tell, Mia looks the same…

“If you think… that means anything… about my allegiances… about what I fight for…” Mia exhales one more breath and curls the hand on her head into a fist. “Then you’re even more ignorant than I thought, Nero tol Scaeva.” And as she rises to her feet, she finally lets her hand drop, to two-hand her blade and level it in Nero’s direction. There’s a small black pyramidal object upon the spot, emanating the waves, but it finally fades away to reveal a small, pale, pearlescent orb, directly where Nero had struck—embedded directly in the middle of her forehead. Elilgeim’s heart stops. The Garlean third eye.

She’s pureblood Garlean.

And then she thinks about it for one split-second further and turns to slam a spell of Stone upon Nero’s head. He shouts in pain and swings his hammer wide, but Lily ducks underneath and strikes at his side, and it’s clear the battle has engaged. But even after everything Nero had already laid bare, he still isn’t finished somehow—

“What is it that draws his attention!?” he demands as Mia charges forth, slamming her shield against his hammer’s head before stabbing from behind her guard with her sword. “What is it about expatriates, heirs to the legacies of the most brilliant engineers in Garlemald’s history who deliberately spurn those legacies and turn their back on him—why does he give a whit about their loyalties, and not mine!?”

“Do I look like I care an onze?” Mia growls gutturally, just as she forces the hammer aside and lays into him with a hard slash. Elilgeim catches up to her right side at that moment, Lily on her left; and Elilgeim’s shocked by the look of consternation and contrition on her face. Her eyes flick to Elilgeim’s, then to Lily’s on the other side, and she freezes, paralyzed by uncertainty and doubt all of a sudden.

“Do we?” Elilgeim mutters with a bemused smirk.

Mia blinks at her, then back to Lily, who’s side-grinning fiercely at her. She takes in a deep breath, looks at Nero with clear resolve swelling within her, and charges forward once more to meet his attack.

The battle is short and furious—and so is Elilgeim when the power is cut, and he vanishes into the darkness, cackling. That they had been forced to slay Rhitahtyn and Livia, but let this one escape… She regulates her breath and clamps down on her rage as Cid breaks back in over the linkpearl, and she quickly updates him on their situation. In turn, he updates them on the other moving parts of Operation Archon. It’s all coming to a head—their final duty is set before them. As she lowers her hand from her ear, she glances back up at Mia; the other woman gulps, nerves settling in and wrinkling her brow around the little grey stone.

“I… I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to— I mean, I was hiding it, but… I was afraid that—”

Elilgeim claps a hand on her shoulder as she walks by. “Seriously: it does not matter even a little bit.”

“Huh?”

“We’re working with Cid Garlond, in case you haven’t noticed,” Lilyana says slyly, and as Elilgeim casts her gaze back she watches Lilyana gently nudge Mia’s other shoulder with her fist, that cheerful grin ever-present. “You’re literally not the first defector from Garlemald. You’ve also led the charge on fighting the primals and investigating for the Scions and a thousand other little things.”

“But—those things Nero said—”

“Does not matter,” Elilgeim repeats, rolling her eyes and shaking her head in bemusement; she crosses her arms and taps her foot, and jerks her head over her shoulder towards the giant funicular elevator behind them. “Do you seriously think we’re the sort of people to judge based on homeland? Nero’s amorality, Gaius’s madness—they’re not remotely because they were born in the same country as you. You’re annoying and you’re preachy and stupidly purehearted—”

“Elilgeim!” Lilyana snaps, her eyebrow arching sharply in indignation.

“—but it’s been clear from the beginning: you hold no love for the Empire and its ways and ideals.”

Mia blinks, meeting Elilgeim’s gaze. “Now are we getting on this lift or not?” Elilgeim says impatiently, a little quirk at the corner of her lips.

Lilyana rolls her eyes, squeezes Mia’s shoulder, and sprints past Elilgeim towards the console in the corner, and a small smirk of disbelief slowly grows on Mia’s face.