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party-of-rpg-muses · 4 years ago

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Bringers of Light and Shadow (FFXIV Story)

@loona-cee @chronochronicler

With a grand roar, the beast known as Therion breathed it’s last breath, falling to the purple ground before erupting in a buff of smoke. The party put their weapons away as the rest of the Scions managed to catch up to them. At the same time, Emet-Selch approached the group of heroes, his footsteps breaking through the dense silence.

The Warriors of Light turned Warriors of Darkness kept their gaze fixed on the Ascian before them, but their vision repeatedly faded before they refocused once again; they managed to hold back the Warden’s Light more or less, but each passing moment proved harder and harder.

“Well, well. It seems you have prevailed...” Emet-Selch finally spoke. But rather this a light-hearted tone of congratulations, his words dripped with spite, as if he wasn’t happy S’bera and his team survived. “However...” With a wave of his arm, a powerful blast of darkness spewed forth, knocking the Scions off their feet. S”bera and his team stood firm, but were left winded, kneeling between Emet-Selch and the Scions, hardly any energy to stand from such a blast.

“Your performance was appalling and I remain unconvinced of your worth. Doubtless, you and yours stand leagues above the rabble you surround yourself. But you are very much a beetle amongst a group of ants, standing before a lion. If I had used my full strength, you would be nothing more than dust in the wind.” His words matched his gaze, looking down upon the Warriors and Scions with contempt, offended that they dare to exist within the same plane of existence as him. “Such is the truth between us; incomplete and broken reflections against the true article and your world, nothing compared to what it once was.”

Out of nowhere, Alisaie let out a grunt as she charged forward. “Alisaie, no!” S’bera called out, but it was too late. Alisaie’s blade met with a barrier protecting Emet-Selch. He made no physical reaction, as if a leaf was blowing towards him.

“So what if our worlds are nothing like yours?” Undeterred by the barrier, she struck and slashed at the magical wall protecting her opponent, trying in vain to make some sort of impact. “They are still our homes, still full of life and and beauty! And we’ll be damned if we let someone like you take away all we hold dear, just because you don’t like it!”“

Emet-Selch’s brow furrowed, hearing her talk about their “homes” as if they had any right to compare to his home. He brought a single hand up, firing a weaker blast of darkness, striking the young Elezen girl as her brother came rushing to her side. “You speak of beauty, but we of Amaurot know what true beauty-what true perfection-is. What you of the Source and the other reflections are but crude mockeries of that beauty. And the pathetic excuses of lives you lead are just as crude, lacking in meaning and purpose.”

Alphinaud’s arms wrapped around his sister’s form, holding her head to his chest as if protecting her from future harm. “Say what you will; though our lives are hardly a flicker compared to what you live, we will rise again and again and through our words and actions, we can achieve great things. We are the ones who define our own worth, not you!”

With a snap of his finger, several arrows of darkness appeared from the air and embedded themselves in the ground around the twins before exploding, each one dealing heavy damage. Once the dust had cleared, Alphinaud and Alisaie lay hunched over, no longer moving.

The Warriors of Darkness looked on at the sight before them, the twins left a crumpled mess as they struggled to their feet, their whole bodies shaking as they rose. “You... You lied to us...” S’bera spoke, practically leading his friends as they all slowly marched towards Emet-Selch. As he spoke, there was something different about him; the markings on his face had already turned a blank white.

“You said that... we could fight to... prove our worth...” Ishita spoke up next, the dark purple horns on her face the same pure white.

“But you had... no intention of letting us go... did you...?” Next was Omutu, eyes shined through his helmet of darkness, but rather than the usual green eyes, they were white as well.

Their visions were partially obscured in white; each of them could feel the Lightwarden’s essence slowly eating away at them. They had to hold on... for as long as possible.

“And what if I did? Does it matter? Your time is up anyway. And once I reclaim what is rightfully mine, the first thing I shall do is expunge your very existence from the memory of this star.” The Ascian held his hands out, a concentrated blast shooting out of each of his fingers, only to be blocked by a barrier. Y’shtola and Urianger have regained consciousness, ready to assist their friends.

“While it is true that all we love will one day fade to dust...” Y’shtola raised her staff, concentrating as much of her aether as possible.

“The actions we take shalt remain as a guide for those who wouldst come after, to continue upon our legacy.” Urianger said, as calm as ever as Y’shtola’s finished her preparation, letting go with a powerful Flare spell at their foe.

It didn’t take long for the dust to clear, leaving Emet-Selch with nary a scratch as he fired a pair of beams at the two, taking them out with one fell swoop.

“We’re... not done yet...” Frances spoke next, just barely trying to keep her usual detached exterior together. All the while, white patches started to appear on her light-tanned skin.

“So long... as we draw breath... we’ll continue to fight...” U’tala’s black hair, even the hair on her feline ears, had completely turned white with white spots appearing on her tail.

“Oh, poor wanderers.” Emet-Selch responded, speaking to them in a tone one could swear was openly insulting. “You wish to spend your last moments struggling against the inevitable. You’ve no fight left to fight; no life left to live.”

The group had only managed to take a few more steps before the corrupted aether within them flared up, causing each to groan and hold themselves in pain, once again falling to their knees in agony. Again and again, the light flared, desperately trying to push back against the Warriors’ attempts to contain it.

The Ascian could only look on and grin, seeming to enjoy what was happening before him. “Oh, come now~ You are Hydaelyn’s Chosen, are you not? Her Warriors of Light, correct?” He sounded like he was on the verge of laughing. “No sense trying to deny HER Light! Let the light consume you and purge our land of the vermin that infest it!”

As if on cue, Thancred charged forward, Gunblade at the ready as he brought it down towards Emet-Selch, only for the man to easily block the attack as well. “Now, Ryne! Hurry! They haven’t much time!”

The young girl quickly mustered her strength and ran towards the group, her gaze set on stemming the light within them.

However, the former Garlean Emperor saw what she was trying to do, effortlessly pushing Thancred back before preparing another attack. “No!” Thancred immediately rushed to where Emet-Selch was aiming, diving forward as he turned, hoping to cover as much area as possible to protect Ryne. But it was for naught as the darkness pierced through both him and Ryne at the same time.

Ryne only managed a few more steps before falling to her knees. “Fight it... You must... hang on...” That was all she was able to say before falling over.

The party could only look on, their eyes scanning around them and seeing the bodies of their comrades who tried to protect them. But suddenly, the corrupted light aether swelled up again, pushing back even harder than before. They tried to hold it back, but it was a losing battle as they each coughed up what’s would normally be blood, if it wasn’t completely white.

“This... can’t be... the end...” S’bera was the first to fall, his strength completely gone as he fell, his vision going white.

“I couldn’t... protect... anyone...” Omutu was next, his armor clanging against the ground, his vision going white as well.

“Tala...” Ishita could barely hold her hand out towards her Miqo’te girlfriend. “Ishi...” U’tala could barely do the same. Both had regrets in their eyes, being unable to help each other and that they would die like this. They fell forward, the tips of their fingers mere inches apart as their vsion went white.

“Mother... Father... My friends and home...” Frances’ thoughts were off the people she knew and loved; her parents, the friends of her parents, her home, and the friends she made. She’ll never see them again and even worse; she’ll be somewhat responsible for the deaths of the people from the Source. Those were her last thoughts as she fell over and all she could see was white.

S’bera awoke in a pure white void as he lifted his head up, only being strong enough to prop himself onto his elbow. He looked around, unable to see his friends. Is this... the end? The next world? Or perhaps, this is what awaited those who became corrupted by the essence of the Lightwardens. But he immediately noticed someone standing beside him; Ardbert.

“Is this truly it? The Warrior of Light who traveled to another world only to die. Is this truly how your story ends?” The Hume spoke, not even meeting the weakened Miqo’te eye-to-eye. “If you had the strength, would you continue to fight? Fight until your last breath? To die on your feet, fighting for what you believe in?”

“I would.” S’bera wasted no time in responding; the experiences of his travels having shaped him into someone more willing to fight for those he cares about. To fight to the bitter end in the name of all that is good. But... what can he do? This was the end of his journey, of their journey. A pitiful end to the Champions of Eorzea.

“Hmph.” Ardbert couldn’t help but smirk, seeming to be satisfied by the Dragoon’s response, but also sensing the despair in his soul. He reached onto his back and took a hold of his axe, holding the blade towards S’bera. “Take it. We are Warriors and together, we’ll fight for the fate of our worlds.”

Omutu awoke within an empty void planting his hands on... whatever served as a floor as he surveyed his location, nothing but white for miles. He looked to where he friends last were, but saw nothing.

“You gave it your all, but it still wasn’t enough.” The voice caught the Lalafell’s attention, causing him to turn his head and look up towards Branden, the Galdjent Paladin standing tall, looking forward with his arms crossed. “I saw how you fight; to protect those you hold dear. If given the chance, would you do all in your power to protect them?”

“I would. With my very life.” His response was stern with no hesitation. Long had he resolved himself to protect others with no regard for his own life. But this time was different; he protects those he cares about because he cares about them, the people who made him feel like he truly belonged.

“Hm.” Branden smiled, reaching onto his waist and took a hold of his Paladin’s sword, holding the hilt towards Omutu. “Full glad am I to hear that. You truly are an honorable man, so allow me to assist you.”

Ishita gasped, immediately looking around the void before looking to her side, where U’tala laid, but no one was there. No one was anywhere. She was left all alone in the nothingness.

“So that’s it, then?” A voice broke the silence, causing Ishita to turn her head towards the source, spotting Nyelbert. “A great mage going down without a fight. I find it rather hard to believe you of all people managed to master black and white magicks.” The Elf couldn’t help but pause for a moment. “Tell me, if given a second chance, would you continue to hone your skills?”

“I will.” Her eyes furrowed. She took pride in her magic and she’s nowhere near done yet. But first... there’s an Ascian to take down and a world to save. Two worlds, rather. She’ll show him just how strong her “imperfect” magic is.

“Very well.” Nyelbert took a hold of his staff, holding the tip towards the Au Ra. “I’ll admit, your skills are rather impressive, even by my standards. I have faith in your growth.”

U’tala awoke amongst the nothingness, first looking to her side, only to find Ishita missing. Her gaze scanned the endless expanse, but there didn’t seem to be a soul around except her. But her sights came to rest on a Dwarven girl clad in white robes.

“How painfully tragic...” Lamitt’s tone was soft, almost sorrowful. “I saw how fiercely you made sure everyone was safe and healthy, especially your beloved. I’m quite touched by your dedication. So I have to ask, if you had more energy, would you continue to assist those you love? Heal them, regardless of injury?”

“I will.” U’tala responded, her eyes burning with determination. Omutu may take the role of protecting the group, it’s U’tala’s job to make sure he’s standing. Not just him, but make sure everyone can continue to fight and even augment their strength if need be.

“I’m glad to hear.” Lamitt smiled as she looked at U’tala, removing her staff and holding the tip towards the Miqo’te. “Take it and we’ll help them together.”

Frances blinked her eyes, looking up before looking around, nothing but white as far as the eyes could see. She couldn’t find any hint of her friends; she was truly and utterly alone. At least, until she sensed someone else standing next to her. Craning her head, she noticed a Mystel girl standing right next to her.

“A shame, isn’t it?” Renda’s gaze fell forward, seeming to look directly into the endless expanse. “The hunter has become the hunted. But you’re not done yet, are you? Your skills are about as good as mine. If given the chance, would you be willing to fire another arrow?”

Frances gave a single nod. “Yes. I’ll hit him in his third eye.” A bold claim. And given how small that third eye is, it’d be nearly impossible to hit... for anyone else but her. While she’s confident in her skills, she’s most confident in her archery. But above all else, she has to help the people she calls her lifelong friends.

“Good.” Renda-Rae reached behind her to grab her bow, holding one of the sides to the Viera. “Take it and together, we’ll become the best hunters in the land, taking down this legendary prey.”

Each of the Warriors from the Source reached out to the weapons held out by the Warriors from the First. There was no fear or hesitation in their movements, ready for what may come. But the moment their fingers made contact with the weapon, they suddenly found themselves no longer along. As though the sheets had been pulled back, the group of friends saw each other.

“Omutu? Tala? Ishi? Frances?” S’bera’s eyes fell upon his friends, who looked back at him and each other with equal surprise.

“Ardbert...?” Lamitt’s eyes welled up with fresh tears as she saw the Hume, overcome with joy.

“My friends...” Ardbert stood stunned for but a moment before shaking his head, S’bera doing the same as they brought themselves to attention. “Now’s not the time. We have more important matters.” The other Warriors for the First nodded in agreement, the look of shock being replaced with one of steeled determination.

“Come now, everyone. We have a battle before us.” Arbdert and S’bera spoke in unison, looking forward, the others also looking forward, ready to stand up and fight once again.

“For the light of the Crystals!” Ardbert commanded, his voice booming, ready to fight.

“For the light of Hydaelyn!” The others responded, their voices ringing together, their tone showing how ready they were.

“For those we have lost...” S’bera started, waiting for his own party to follow up.

“For those we can save!” The others cried out, burning with determination from their rallying cry.

A sudden burst of light erupted, causing Emet-Selch to look away from the blinding light. As the light began to fade, a newly revitalized. Not only that, but their clothes had changed; S’bera with a new dark purple Dragoon armor, Omutu changing from Dark Knight back to Paladin, U’tala’s garb becoming a fancy astronomer robe, Ishita now wore red high-end clothes and a beautiful red hat, and Frances donned the garb of a well-versed traveler complete with a fine scarf.

“Know this...” Even though it was S’bera who was speaking, his voice was noticable different; as though two people were talking at the exact same time.

“This world is not yours to end.” Omutu stepped forward, standing side-by-side with S’bera. And just like the Miqo’te, he spoke with two voices.

“This is our future.” Ishita did the same, standing on the other side of S’bera. But not only did it sound like she also had two voices, one of the two was notably more masculine

“This is our story.” Next was U’tala, standing next to Omutu. But the one of the voices that came from her sounded softer.

“And it will continue on.” Finally, Frances took her place next to Ishita. Again, two distinct voices came from her mouth as she spoke.

Emet-Selch did his best to focus, looking towards the party. But rather than their actual appearace, he saw robed Ancients. But the one that stood in the middle drew most of his attention. “No... That’s impossible!” He glred back at the group, angry at the sight he saw. But with a blink of his eyes, his vision returned, laying eyes on the beings from the Source.

“Bah! A mere trick is what it is. You are both broken reflections, nothing more.” He stance straightened, seeming to calm down somewhat. “You are incomplete. Useless. What hope do you have of standing up to a true living being?”

“The hope of the future.” All five of them spoke, no longer with their dual-voices. “We challenge you, Emet-Selch. For the future of this star and the many others.”

The Ascian gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at them, equal parts enraged and offended that they would dare challenge him. “Very well.” His words seeped with spite. “One final test. I shall see your strength, your resolve, firsthand. The victor shall continue and become the hero of the story, while the other goes down in history as its villain.” Darkness swirled and gathered around him. He raised his hand up, balling it into a fist as he slowly brought it down, seeming to focus the power before looking back up at the party.

As he lifted his head, the red Ascian mask appear over his face. “I am Hades!” His voice was markedly different from before. it was deeper and more commanding. “I am he who shall awaken our brothers and sisters from their slumber and retake our home from these mockeries!” His power swelled outward, consuming all around him. Whenever light remained was snuffed out, leaving naught but a single platform to host the battle to decide the future.

#outofexp #FFXIV Story #Final Fantasy XIV

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anchoredtether · 7 years ago

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Title: Bandages

Author/Artist: AnchoredTether

Rating: Explicit [graphic depictions of violence, major character death, dark themes, discussion of suicide, graphic/disturbing imagery]

Series: Vengeful Retribution

Chapter: 4/?

Spoiler-free Summary: Rokurou thought nothing had changed until he felt something he could only describe as innately human. Velvet swore she felt a warmth, a luxury she was certain she would never feel again after her humanity died. It seemed even daemons could change.

CHAPTER 04 --- BANDAGES

"Why are you so proud of your clan name if you hate your family so?" The thought was at the back of Velvet's mind as she observed how he said the name Rangetsu despite all the negative glimpses she understood about the samurai's family. "I never said I hated them." Rokurou protested. "And besides, wouldn't you be a little bit proud of your last name if you belonged to the world's most renown line of swordsmen?" He gave her a devilish grin. Velvet growled. "I- well… I guess." She shook her head. "But you want to kill your own brother. And he killed your mother. I'm not…I'm not judging, but that's not exactly what a happy loving family looks like. If you don't hate them, then…what is it…you feel towards them?" Rokurou let out a quiet exhale. He wanted to retort that she was asking an emotionally dead daemon about how he felt concerning his relatively emotionless family. "It's…hard to explain to someone who doesn't come from my culture. It's not so much a family, like what you know and have grown up in, as it is a clan. We're not brothers and sisters or sons and daughters - we're comrades. Like soldiers in a battalion, or wolves in a pack. Blood relation doesn't necessarily mean anything." "If you're supposed to be like comrades, why are you killing each other?" "It's just part of our training. Part of being a samurai. We fight all the time. But if one of us ends up killing another while training…" He shrugged his shoulders as if they were talking about something far more trivial. "Then the one who's dead simply wasn't strong enough. That's just how it is. The strong survive and become stronger while the weak perish and die." "That's…terrible." Her voice sounded dead even though she felt horrified inside. He shrugged again. "Not terrible, just….different." "No, it's terrible." Her tone was almost angry now. "Have you never known what it's like to be loved?" She looked as if she were surprised she asked the question, and quickly added, "Or what it's like for someone to even give a damn if you live or die?" He blinked a few times, taken aback by her question. "Attachment and sentiment are weaknesses that will only slow you down in battle. Mercenaries can't afford love. That's just the way it is." "Well I'm going to do what I can to change it!" She said furiously, her golden hues passionate in their fervor. "I care if you die, Rokurou! You're not just an ally to me, or a comrade, or a means to an end. And I'm certainly not tolerating you just because you're repaying your stupid debt!!" She shook her head at the ridiculousness of his promise. "I don't want you to die because you're my friend, Rokurou! And you better remember it!" She playfully, half not-so-playfully punched his shoulder to make sure her point came across to him. He threw his head back in a spirited laugh. "If you say so!" In a more serious tone, he looked down at her with a warmth in his amber hue. "Don't worry about me, Velvet. I'm sure you had a wonderful upbringing with your sister and brother full of love and selflessness, and you simply wish I could have had the same. I don't yearn for something like that because I've never known any better. All I've ever wanted was to be the best swordsman I could be. That's all that has really mattered to me. Everything else is secondary." Velvet lowered her eyes with a thoughtful hum in acknowledgment. There was still plenty about Rokurou she didn't understand and his daemonicy certainly didn't help her get any closer in most cases. Most of the time he couldn't remember his human life, and if he did, he couldn't remember any emotions tied to those memories. When she thought about it, Rokurou seemed lively and full of spirit on the surface, with his care-free attitude and bizarre enthusiasm. But when she saw him more clearly, broke past his comedic facade, Rokurou was empty… as if the curse of his daemonblight tore his very soul from his body. When she thought about it, she would always take her lack of taste and sense over his lack of feeling. Because at the end of the day, Velvet hated the pain she felt…but it made her feel alive. It reminded her that she was more than a monster, that she had to keep on fighting. The pain gave her a reason to live. ][ --- ][ "Uuuhhhhgggghhhwwwwuh." "Looks like the daemon finally rose from its grave." Morgrim said dully. "There ain't no grave can hold my body down." Rokurou said groggily as he made his way to sit across from the malak at the table. "Where the hell are we, anyway?" "We're still in Mierchio-" "Obviously." The cold might not have bothered him as much anymore, but it still cut like daggers into his open wounds. Morgrim looked annoyed at his interruption. "-in an abandoned house on the edge of town. Well, by abandoned I mean of humans. Nathaniel is a malak that lives here and has so kindly allowed us to hole up here by my persuasion of sharing a special curry recipe with him." "Wouldn't happen to be a java curry recipe?" He could smell it wafting - it was the only reason he hauled himself out of bed, which he was already starting to regret. If only if one of his friends who could heal were here - Laphicet, Eizen, Eleanor, or even Magilou - he never thought he'd desperately wish the witch were by his side. This Nathaniel character knew an amateur healing art, but it wasn't anything like what he became accustomed to over the past year. "You have a good nose." Morgrim said. "I take it you can still taste your food?" Rokurou nodded. "Is that a common side effect of daemonblight?" "It would appear so." Rokurou quickly learned he couldn't use his right arm for the time being - he had to eat his curry using his left. Luckily for the swordsman, he was pretty ambidextrous, so it wasn't an issue. Realizing the extent of his injuries was troublesome, however. "How far did your markings spread before you nearly died from that code red daemon?" Morgrim stirred him from his thoughts. Rokurou was silent a moment as he looked at the black burns that marred his body, barely showing between strands of bloodied bandages. "Down to my elbow, and some ways down my shoulder blade. I can't exactly look back there all that well." "It seems your wounds have stimulated the spread of your daemonblight…as if it's trying to heal you." "I noticed that. Well, more like I felt it." It was hard to describe, but he could feel the dark markings crawling down his torso, creeping into the claw marks like a poison infecting his bloodstream. It didn't cause any pain, but he could tell it was turning him less and less human. "Judging the damage done, how long would you reckon it'll take me to heal?" He tilted his head at the cat - no, nekomata - across from him. "I haven't seen anyone survive with wounds that bad." Nathaniel picked up, speaking from the kitchen. "I'd wager it'll take at least a while. I'm honestly surprised you could even get out of bed after only four days." Rokurou nearly choked on his curry. "Four days?? Then how long have I been here?" "This would be day six since you went out into the icefield." Morgrim answered. "Damn." He couldn't remember the last time he had an injury this bad… well, except the day I died. That wasn't exactly an encouraging comparison. "So safe to say at least another week or so?" His tone was utterly defeated. "I would advise longer, but knowing you, you'll probably leave before a week has passed." Rokurou growled. "Stop acting like you know me." "I knew your brother." "That doesn't mean anything." Morgrim gave a soft smirk, and it only made Rokurou more infuriated. ][ --- ][ "I've been wanting to thank you." Velvet said unexpectedly one night on the Van Eltia. She was perched along the railing, looking out at the ocean waves crested in moonlight, while Rokurou walked over to rest his arms against the wood and joined her in watching. He found he couldn't sleep and it seemed Velvet was the same. "For what?" He asked. "For keeping what I am a secret. You didn't have to." "What, for not telling everyone that you were actually a therion instead of just a daemon?" The rest of the crew just recently learned that Velvet was the therion for the earthpulse point at Titania, even though Rokurou knew from the beginning. "What difference would it have made?" He turned his head to look at her. "You only told everyone you were a daemon, so I figured you didn't want anyone to know the therion bit." He shrugged. "I didn't really understand what a therion was anyway." "Neither did I." She looked at him, her gaze serious yet kind. "But as we all journeyed together and learned the truth about therions and Innominat…I'm actually kind of surprised you didn't make some kind of connection and think aloud some kind of epiphany with all of this, revealing what I was." Rokurou gave her a sly grin. "You're giving me more credit than I'm worth. I'm no genius, Velvet." "You're cleverer than you think." She sighed, a sound of slight frustration. She made a half-hearted gesture with her hand. "Will you just accept my gratitude already?" He laughed. "Alright alright! You're welcome. It wasn't that big of a deal though." "It was to me." Her voice was soft, her eyes lost as she stared at her arms folded on top of her knees bent close to her chest. "You also never told anyone about what lies beneath my bandages." "Actually I told Magilou." Velvet perked up a bit, her eyes wide. "You-" "Joking." Rokurou gave a playful tilt of his head before letting out a snicker. "No, I never told anyone. It's your business. You've never told anyone how I got my markings, so technically we're even. I'm simply paying back the favor." "Why does everything have to come back to repaying debts with you?" "Every act of kindness in life is a favor or a debt. There's no in-between." "That's extremely black and white for someone who lives in shades of grey." Rokurou narrowed his eyes at her, although it wasn't threatening albeit more on the lines of curious. "It certainly is." Velvet could see the crimson markings on his face more easily in the darkness of night as they faintly glowed with an ominous light. His daemonic eye shone like a nocturnal predator, and she caught glimpses of its gaze as the wind shifted his bangs. Velvet frowned slightly, her brows furrowing in thought. "There's a lot we've entrusted with each other…" She mused, "And have yet to tell anyone else." Rokurou's gaze softened. He stopped leaning against the rails only to hoist himself to sit on them like a bench, facing out towards the ocean. Velvet was sitting along the rails horizontally so she faced his side. The conversation felt more personal now, as if they were both on the same level. "I vowed to aid you in your quest for revenge the day we met. It was only natural that I come to trust you in time." "But it wasn't for me." Her voice sounded surprised. "I showed you my weakness, my vulnerability…when I barely knew you." She scoffed the words as if reprimanding herself, her lips set in a frustrated scowl. "You were only a means to an end. I wasn't supposed to trust anyone if I was to go through with this. I shouldn't have let you follow me to begin with. And yet -" Rokurou raised a brow at her, patiently waiting for her to wring out her frustrations. She sighed. "I always told myself that I didn't need anyone. That I could avenge Laphi all on my own. That it had to be done by myself, and myself alone. Even if I died in the process, that was fine. So long as he was avenged, and then that way no one else had to suffer. No one else would suffer because of Artorious, and no one would have to suffer because of me. That's how I wanted things to happen." "But that's not how things happened." He offered her a downturned smirk. "It's a good thing you've entrusted an emotionless daemon then - you don't have to worry about me suffering because of you." He turned his head to look out at the ocean, but Velvet kept her gaze set upon him, her words catching in her throat. "I'm sorry." Was all she managed to say. "For what?" He asked again, this time keeping his eyes on the water. "I'm sorry you can't feel." She almost sounded angry. "There are times when I hate the pain in my heart and I wish I didn't have to feel anything, and I envy you and I wish that I could be void of emotions - that everything would be so much easier - but then I remember that those feelings are what remind me that I'm alive, that I'm more than a monster, that I have a purpose and I desire to fulfil it." She bit her lower lip to steady herself and keep her voice from wavering. She could feel tears threatening to make an appearance as her heart ached for the man sitting beside her. "You don't have that." Before Velvet could notice, Rokurou's hand was placed on top of her bandaged one. He still looked out at the sea with a thousand yard stare, but the grip of his hand expressed that he was paying close attention. "We all fight different battles, Velvet." His voice sounded far off, as if it weren't Rokurou speaking anymore. He wasn't his usual sarcastic or cynical self, and his voice had a dark streak of sobriety. "There are plenty of things which I lack. But there are plenty of things I do have…and that makes all the difference. I think the reason why I… why I admire your resolve and strength and passion… is because a part of me recognizes that I was once like you." He turned to look at her now, his amber and crimson hues resolute. "You may have lost your arm, but you have the bandages to cover it up. You may have lost your brother, but you've regained your sisterly love with Laphicet. And you may feel you have lost what makes you human, Velvet… but feeling sorrow for what I am? Proves you haven't." He angled his torso to better face her, taking both of his hands to hold her bandaged hand and arm. "You do well to hide it from the rest of the world, but I know what truly lies beneath these bandages." He held her arm so delicately, as if it would crumble beneath his grasp if he weren't too careful. "You're not a monster, Velvet. You didn't succumb to malevolence. You're a victim of circumstance. You're a veteran of suffering. I brought my curse upon myself. Yours was forced upon you. There is no need to feel sorry for me." She was quiet a moment, desperately wanting to retreat into herself, but at the same time she couldn't pull her arm away from him. She looked up to match his gaze. "You say you brought your curse upon yourself, and that your own malevolence is what turned you into a daemon…but you've also told me that you died…that you…" She wasn't sure how to phrase the words on how he lost half of his head the same way she lost her left arm. "…that the malevolence brought you back. It doesn't add up, Rokurou. Dying wasn't your fault just as much as losing my arm wasn't. Unless you…" Velvet bit her lip, grateful that she stopped voicing that train of thought - that Rokurou died on purpose. He briefly mentioned suicide once so she had no idea the extent of how it affected him. "No, it doesn't really add up." He explained, his voice bordering close to something sad. He was silent, looking down at Velvet's bandages, his thumb idly gracing over the back of her hand. "I died fighting Shigure. I mean, ultimately, he wasn't the cause of my death, but he might as well have been. We were fighting at Mount Killaraus when a blow from Shigure pushed me over the edge of a cliff. If the fall didn't kill me, the fact that half my head deteriorated from lava definitely did the job." At this point Rokurou noticed that Velvet had her right hand covering her mouth, her golden eyes narrowed in a mix of disgust and horror. He gave her an apologetic look, but before he could speak Velvet's voice came through softly muffled. "I'm fine. I'm just…trying to absorb this." He offered her an encouraging smile, and moved both of his hands to hold both of hers. He looked down at their joined hands and part of him was surprised Velvet hadn't slapped him or something. "It was still my malevolence that brought me back to life." He said softly. "In the act of dying, I was filled with hatred towards my brother. That hatred and desire to kill him was so strong it brought me back from the dead." He laughed. "So to answer your question, no, dying wasn't my fault. But coming back from the dead with the sole purpose of killing my brother, definitely was." "Maybe that's why you can't remember or feel anything." Velvet said suddenly. Her hands, which were acting like dead fish until now, gripped Rokurou's as if he were her lifeline. Her eyes shone in the moonlight with the light of an epiphany. "You lost half your brain. It's no wonder you can't remember anything from your human life. It's no wonder you can't feel emotion. You can't recall emotions, you can't remember what it meant to feel alive when you were human because half those memories are gone…" "Hmm…perhaps you're right. I never thought about it like that. It makes sense." "…There's probably no way to fix it either. Just like how I will never get my arm back." "Like I said, you have the bandages to cover it up." Rokurou tightened his grasp on her hands in return. "You haven't lost everything, Velvet. And I don't think any loss could ever truly extinguish your fire." Her head tilted slightly, as if she were trying to examine the samurai from a different angle. "And you may have lost your memory and your emotions…but you still haven't lost this." She released her right hand to place it over Rokurou's chest, directly where his heart lie. She could feel it beating, alive and strong. "You might not be able to feel things like shame and sympathy and nostalgia and envy and love…but you have such heart Rokurou, whether you've come to realize it or not." "…I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. That I can remember, that is." He was incredibly still, so still that Velvet thought he might be holding his breath. His eyes kept shifting ever so slightly, and it wasn't until he drew in closer that she realized where his gaze diverted in distraction. Without thinking Velvet pushed him away with the hand that was still on his chest… …and Rokurou fell overboard. "…SHIT." She lunged in after him, plunging into the turbulent ocean waves. She couldn't feel the temperature of the sea, but she could only imagine it must have been freezing. "WHY THE HELL DID YOU JUMP IN AFTER ME??" Rokurou yelled as he swam against the current towards the Van Eltia. Velvet realized he was mad at her for jumping in after him, not for shoving him off in the first place, and then understood how little she thought this through. "I - I DON'T KNOW, YOU CAN'T POSSIBLY SWIM AGAINST THESE WAVES!" She yelled back, now swimming alongside him towards the ship. "THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST THROW A ROPE TOWARDS ME OR SOMETHING?" "I DON'T KNOW I WASN'T THINKING!!" How could she be so rash? Why didn't she think to grab a lifeline instead of just jumping overboard? The samurai leaning in to kiss her really knocked her off her boat…literally. "WELL IT'D BE EASIER FOR YOU TO SWIM IF YOU DITCHED THE SWORD!" "I AM NEVER ABANDONING MY SWORD!!!!" Velvet growled in frustration. Why was he wearing it in the middle of the night anyway? Did he sleep with the damn thing? "I HAVE AN IDEA." "ENTERTAIN ME." Although she had never swam with her therion arm activated, Velvet figured she could fight against the rolling waves more effectively. The massive crimson claw engulfed her arm, and she said sternly, "GRAB ME." Rokurou raised a brow. "THAT'S ENTERTAINING." "SHUT UP." Even though Velvet should have been mad at him, the anger in her voice was only halfhearted and she was too preoccupied with fighting the ocean to properly snap at him. If the circumstances were different she would have probably struggled with hiding a snicker because, despite their situation, she found his response incredibly inappropriate and simultaneously hilarious. Contrary to his words, Rokurou wrapped his arms around her waist in an innocent manner, and Velvet clutched his torso with her right as her therion arm dug into the water, drawing them closer to the Van Eltia. When they made good distance, nearly reaching the back of the ship, Benwick appeared at the stern and had a line tossed to them. A few crew members, including Eizen, were gathered ready to pull Velvet and Rokurou up to safety. She insisted that he go up first since she could keep up with the strengthening tide, and once Rokurou was pulled up she grabbed the rope and ascended out of the water. Her left arm vaporized in black and crimson smoke to reveal her almost-human arm, and with a gasp Velvet saw her bandages were all but gone, revealing the rawness that she kept hidden from everyone. In a panic, she quickly wrapped the edge of her cape around her arm before she reached the top, and withdrew from the help the pirates offered as she stumbled off to the side, careful to keep her arm facing away from everyone. "What the hell happened, exactly." Eizen did not sound amused, his piercing stare appearing more ominous than usual. Velvet's lips parted to say something, she wasn't sure what, but Rokurou beat her to it. "Sorry, I was- well, am - increeeeedibly wasted, and somehow I tripped or somethin and…" He made a gesture with his hand, complete with a plummeting sound. "I guess I pulled Velvet in with me."

Her brows were furrowed incredulously as he explained. With his hair wet and slicked back, and the strange explanation he gave, almost made him appear like a completely different person. The swordsman wasn't a scant drunk. She knew him well enough to tell, and she would have been able to smell the sake when his lips were dangerously close to hers… She shook her head, regaining her serious composure. "It was a blur." She said with a dismissive gesture of her hand. "Sorry to bother everyone." Not only did Rokurou's lie cover up the fact that it was Velvet's fault for pushing him in, but also hid her blunder of jumping in after him with no means of saving him. "Either way, you two need to get thawed." Eizen said. "I'll go get you two dry clothes." Benwick cut in and dashed off. "Even if you can't feel it Velvet," The malak continued, "I can tell you're hitting the first stages of hypothermia." Suddenly Rokurou was flanked along Velvet's right side, grabbing her bicep still hidden beneath her cloak. "Don't worry, we'll go into the kitchen and get a fire going." "You're wasted, Rokurou. I don't think you should be lighting fires." "Aeh, the salt water sobered me up. We'll be fine." He turned to give Eizen a reassuring look. "It's my fault we got in this mess, so it's only proper I make the amends." The malak sighed. "At least let me start the fire. I don't want you accidentally setting the ship ablaze." ][ --- ][ ][ music ][ When they reached the kitchen, Eizen got working on setting logs into the hearth and starting the arte. Rokurou stated, a little too loudly, "Velvet, can you hold my sword for a sec?" "Whhhat?" Her eyes were wide. She was wondering if he slept with the damn sword only moments ago, and now he was wanting her to hold it?? She clumsily grasped the massive sword with her right hand, and he was making a weird face at her, his eyes doing a strange twitching - then she realized he was trying to wink at her. Clearly Rokurou lacked in the winking skill. Having half his face daemonized only made his attempt look even weirder. "OH." Was all she could say. With her cape still wrapped around her arm, she held the sword horizontally with both arms in a way so that it effectively covered her left arm without it being too suspicious. Rokurou unsuspectingly started to peel off his upper layers, which would have been impossible without taking off the sword first anyway. He was covering for her in more ways than she could possibly repay him. Benwick came in with a dry change of clothes for the both of them, and insisted he worked on making a hot soup to help warm them up. Neither of them could object since they reached the stage where they stopped shivering. "Be glad you can't feel it." Rokurou sighed. "I guess in this instance it's a blessing." Velvet mused. There was a silent agreement between the four of them when Rokurou and Velvet took the dry clothes and went off into separate corners to change, that Benwick and Eizen turned their backs while making the soup. While Velvet was clumsily pulling off her pants and leggings, she heard a soft whistle from Rokurou and a moment later a roll of medical bandages landed near her feet. She quickly snatched the roll as if it were gold, and hastily started wrapping up the abomination that was her left arm. She kept it wrapped to hide it from the world, but in truth it was mostly because she couldn't stand to look at it. Once her arm was properly covered, she made a grunt of annoyance. She spoke just loud enough for him to hear. "I hope you weren't looking to throw that." Granted, her hair was long enough that he wouldn't have even seen her exposed rear, but the thought of him looking at her nude made her flustered. "I'm a swordsman, Vel." He said in an equally quiet tone. "Even when I'm drunk I can hit targets without looking. Usually." She was slightly surprised that she was smiling. She mused on the fact that he just called her 'Vel' - she wasn't sure how she felt about the nickname and what it was supposed to mean. Once they were both clothed, they sat as close to the fire as they possibly could, and to each other. Velvet thought it was strange to see Rokurou wearing normal clothes, but he probably thought the same of her. They sat with their backs facing the fire, both wrapped up in thick blankets, and with the yaksha on her left side, she could only see the blackened side of his face. It was strange to think she came to know him so well that she could now read the emotion in his scarlet eye. "I've never been this cold before." His words were slurred and slower than usual. "If we wanted to warm up faster," Her words came out slowly as well, as if she were in a daze. "It would be better for us to get naked and heat up each other." Rokurou turned his head to fully look at her, his face scrunched up as if he were thinking too hard. "Joking." Velvet jabbed, although the word came out dully. "That only works if one of you doesn't have hypothermia." Eizen broke in. "I'm certainly not going to volunteer." "I was joking, Eizen." She waved her hand at him drunkenly. "I don't think we have it that bad." He let out an amused laugh. "If you say so. The soup is almost ready." ][ --- ][ After they ate a serving of soup (several for Rokurou) and their hair was mostly dry, the two of them were left in the kitchen as Benwick and Eizen returned to bed. Velvet was leaning into Rokurou's chest, his arm wrapped around her, and somehow her right hand found way to join with his left. Normally Velvet would have started reprimanding herself for getting into this kind of position with a man, but she tried to justify it with the hypothermia. It was just the hypothermia speaking, the instinct for want of warmth. "I'm sorry." "For what?" Her voice was tired, and sounded more like a statement than a question. "For trying to kiss you." A silence stretched thickly between them. The attempt to kiss her nearly evaded her mind - she was too preoccupied with surviving. With a sudden stab in her heart, Velvet wondered how long her life was preoccupied with merely surviving and fulfilling her brother's vengeance. When did Rokurou first fall in love with her? How long had she been oblivious? She knew he wouldn't have pulled a stunt like tonight on a whim. She said so herself, Rokurou had heart. He wouldn't have tried to kiss her unless it had meaning. When she saw Stormhowl glinting in the corner from reflected firelight, her eyes watered. Never leave your lifeline in the hands of another. Although Rokurou technically still had his daggers on his person, he treated that sword as if it held his very soul in its sheath. He gave it up to Velvet in order to help her hide the aberrations of her arm. She didn't realize how out of character that was for him until the hypothermia had faded. "Thank you." She said softly, her voice wavering. "For trying to kiss you?" Velvet elbowed his ribs. "No. For…for covering me." In more ways than one. "It's nothing." He said simply. "It's not nothing, it's-" "No, it's nothing." Rokurou said decisively. "Supporting you is no burden to me. In fact, I wish there was more I could do. I don't think I'll ever be able to repay that debt I owe you." "It all comes down to that debt, it would seem." "It's become more than just a debt, Vel." There was that nickname again. She angled her head to look up at him, her heart skipping a beat when she looked into his crimson and amber eyes. When did it become more than just a debt? When exactly did Rokurou change from an indebted samurai to someone who desired to always serve and remain at her side? When was he no longer a mere companion but instead became an invaluable partner? She couldn't imagine facing Artorious without him. She couldn't even think about what she would do with her life after the fact, and imagining it without Rokurou somehow felt…meaningless. She drew up the courage as she straightened her back to properly look at him as she asked, "When…when did it become more than just a debt?" "…When you said you'd care if I die." Rokurou claimed he couldn't feel emotion like he used to, but Velvet could have sworn his eyes were filled with it. While showing him her bandages when they were still strangers was a vulnerability to her, this was Rokurou's. She had never seen him so vulnerable before - didn't even know he could be. "My whole life I was a number. The sixth son. A hired mercenary. Simply the next swordsman who had survived. I've never had anyone care if I died. Hell…not even I cared if I died." His right arm which was wrapped around her moved to entwine with her left arm, until he laced his fingers with her bandages. "I don't know how you did it Velvet, and I commend you for achieving the impossible…" He exhaled slowly, his lips turning into a sad smile. "…You gave someone who wanted to die a reason to live." Velvet's gaze softened, her lips parting ever so slightly. She saw the pain in his eyes and heard the suffering in his voice, and couldn't help but feel that she was seeing him in a completely different light. She pulled herself close, watching the firelight dance dangerously in his eyes, and hesitating for only the briefest of moments, moved to press her lips against his. She felt the conviction of his reason, and Velvet was moved by the amount of meaning in his kiss. After so many years of darkness, neither of them had ever felt so alive.

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