#chocobo blaze one man

[dbzultimatehero]

:readmore:

[NSFW]

Amahara… the home realm where the Chimera Rose, Soren Amakusa resides alongside her family. A realm that existed in a dimension that was foreign to the one he was familiar with. This “he” in question being Hiro Alexanders, the Saiyan Hero of Earth and the secret, unsung protector of Mankind. Alongside the previously amalgamated halves of the Rosen Krone, Hiro vacated to their home realm with the help of Regina’s extradimensional technology. When he arrived however, the realms were being threatened. The Yami clan had invaded the peaceful land, terrorizing the realm in the absence of the vengeful rose and her familial comrades during their own struggle against the Usurpers. But when all hope seemed lost, Hiro, using his Super Saiyan powers and extraordinary unmatched fighting power, came to the aid the the Silverheart Twins, fending off the Yami with minimal effort and saving the lands.

Days that followed, Hiro would stay to help tend to the ravaged and ruined farms that were previously trampled, recovering most of the lost Chocobo and returning them back to their rightful home at the Silverheart’s residential farming grounds. From there, Hiro would lend a hand in restoring the once destroyed farm and bringing back hearth and comfort to the lands.

“Whew~ Alright! Almost done!” Hiro said, wiping sweat from his face, and taking a quick swig from his small canteen of water. For such a serene land, these parts were blazing hot. Thankfully, he had removed his shirt, although unveiling his severely scarred upper body. “Man… Leanne really does this kind of stuff everyday with just her brother? Man, for a couple of super-rich folk, those two sure know how to pull their weight…”

He said that, but his outwardly strength and speed, he had already harvested and inspected agriculture of the foreign land, watered and planted all of crops, groomed the adult Chocobo birds, nurtured their chicks with a rather embarrassing but cute nursery songs,and even fixed, stabilized, snd cleaned the stables and barns, having managed complete weeks worth of Leanne and Zephyr’s usual work labor in the span of only a couple of hours. “Sheesh… it hasn’t been a full day, and I’m already beat…!”

[promethea-silk]

Equal as Parasites

A fire blazed comfortably within the large fireplace of the expansive sitting room of the Gray estate, the need for its warmth ever present due to Ishgard’s rather eternal state of winter. The sounds of the popping wood and crackling flames was muted, however, by the tones of macabre and melancholy as eerie notes rang through the otherwise quiet manor. Long delicate fingers graced over the keys, ushering the sound to life despite the particular morbid demeanor to the tune. Cordelia was nestled on the edge of a velvet cushioned bench, her posture immaculate as she played the grand piano. The depth of the blackened wood made the instrument seem daunting, like it might spring from its inanimate state and scare those who might stare for too long. 

She had taken to playing following the gathering at the Cress estate, it was something she tended to do when her thoughts swirled. Cordelia had known that Damien was setting his sights on weaseling into the Cress family somehow, of course via the older sister. But it had not quite occurred to her until tonight that Valeria had once been previously betrothed which brought her thoughts back to one Ricard Blythe. The details of the arrangement she was not privy to, nor were the details of why it had been called off, which caused her curiosity to pique even higher especially now that her brother-in-law seemed to be inserting himself where Ricard once had been. It had been a time since Lady Gray had wrapped up her original business with him and she initially had opted to keep her distance, at least for a time. 

The Gray estate remained quiet in Cordelia’s absence. It allowed Damien a chance to scour the halls of his childhood without much of a care and away from the prying eyes of his sister-in-law and her lackeys. While Damien still found himself without a prized object that had once belonged to Ambrose, he still made an attempt to locate the object. Cordelia’s business outside of the estate proved to make that investigation only slightly easier. After an unsuccessful attempt, Damien had recalled himself to his quarters as a means of distraction. He was set to leave to check in on the status of his chocobos and their training in some days time, but he’d remain within the walls for now. 

“Lady Gray has returned,” the familiar voice of Laurent spoke as the door closed behind the blonde haired man. Damien had eyed him for a lingering moment as he slid off of the bench along the window. 

“I suppose it's best we go and attempt to pry?” Damien asked with a hint of amusement in his tone as he made his way out of his quarters. The thick leather boots he wore stopped right below his knee and his attire was typical for what Damien normally wore. A sense of dress that only showed his family’s aptitude in textiles. His trousers were well made and tailored to his fit frame, the dark purple vest featured a brocade pattern set in silver and his shirt was white and made of the finest quality. Though the sleeves were rolled and the collar has several buttons undone. 

He would stop by the drink trolley as he heard the sound of the keys to pour himself a drink of red wine as he carried on towards the piano. “A lovely sound coming from such a wretched creature,” he spoke to alert her of his presence as he sipped from the wine. 

She was hardly surprised at his arrival, though boorish as he may have been. It was only a matter of time before he would grace her with his droning presence. “Oh, Damien, you wound me so.” Cordelia quipped in return, hands continuing their dance over the ivory keys despite her words speaking over the sound. Not even her attention was pulled from her task before her, gray eyes content on her watching as she brought music to life. “Was there something you required?"

At her recognition of him, he approached further inside of the room. The glass was brought to his lips as he allowed himself another savor of the wine. “Required? Oh no,” he’d reply in a bit of mock surprise. How could he possibly need anything from the more than generous Lady Gray. His feet would stop next to the piano and he’d set the glass down atop it as he watched her fingers sweep along the keys for a moment. “I was made aware that you had a little conversation with Lady Cress,” Damien began with furrowed brows. “Perhaps the gossip is getting to your head a little too much, Lady Gray.” 

Still, her attention held true to the piano as he spoke, giving no inclination that she planned to raise that steel gaze toward him. “Gossip? I do not recall partaking in any gossip, Damien, it would seem your insecurities are getting to your head a little too much, hm?” With this, Cordelia offered the briefest of glances up at him, perhaps flashing the shadow of a smirk over her darkened lips. 

A frustrated sigh seemed to leave his lips as he finished off the remainder of the wine from the glass and set the empty one down atop the piano that she had sat at. “It seems your memory is going then, dear Cordelia.” He chided as his eyes rolled ever so slightly. His arms folded over his broad chest casually as the fabric of his shirt tightened around his muscular arms. “Valeria Cress has made me aware that she’s forbidden from seeing me due to the information you provided her sister.” He was much more forward now. There was no intricate hiding of his tone. “So,” he began as his arms unfolded and he moved to lean atop the piano and bring himself closer to her. “I wonder what web you’re weaving now, Lady Gray.”

Finally the music came to a stop, bringing back the ever present eerie silence to the halls around them yet again until she spoke in response. “The information and discussion had with Lady Cress was based on truths, hardly gossip.” She adjusted on the bench, tilting her head upward to address him. “Careful not to show your delicate ego too much.” With the quip, her hands reached for the lid of the piano to cover the keys before gently scooting the bench back to allow for room so that she might stand. “When the brief idea of you spending time with Valeria arose at dinner, I said the decision would go through me in its finality, and I meant it.” 

He had taken a step back when she had scooted back on the bench and stood up from her place at the piano. His back straightened and his shoulders squared as his eyes bore down at her. Their height difference was noticeable, as was the case when it came to most people with Damien. He was tall with a fit frame and the well tailored clothing only made him look taller. “Careful Lady Gray,” he quipped as he took a step closer to her to close the distance and craned his neck ever so slightly. “There seems to be a trend of the heads of House Gray meeting untimely deaths as of late. We would all be devastated to see you become part of the trend.” 

A playful and coy smile then graced her lips as she met him with a step closer of her own, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. “It is so nice that you’re finally accepting me in my rightful position. High time has come for you to move on from this.” She cooed, softly patting his cheek before continuing. “For let us be honest with ourselves, the power and wealth wasn’t the only thing you envied of your brother.” 

Her lips pressed together as her tongue flicked over them quickly. “I trust you will continue to stay in line and not cause issues with the Court. I am ensuring work that Ambrose could not and won’t have you soiling that.” 

There was a momentary pause of his movements when he felt the feeling of her fingertips along his cheek. The air within the estate remained rather cool unless you were quite near a fireplace given that the building was largely composed of stone. His jaw clenched and his mead colored eyes remained fixated on her as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I’ve not accepted anything,” he gritted through clenched teeth. Her follow up comment had caused him to scoff in amusement as he shook his head in a swift movement to pull his face away from her. “The only thing you offered my brother was the warmth between your legs and the youth of your features. Your one job was to bring another Gray into this world and you have failed at that; just as you fail at running his endeavors.” 

A simple tch echoed in the large room as Cordelia scoffed with a grin. “Please, Damien, you know well enough that the lack of a young Gray was not on my shoulders. The amount of women outside and inside these walls your brother laid with and not a single one fostered a child? Mm, let us hope this infliction did not spread to you as well.” She began to turn from him to take her leave all the while continuing to spew her well aimed poison. “You do not have a leg to stand on with that accusation as you know very well the Gray business is flourishing and is continuing to do so beyond what dear old brother could manage.”

There was something infuriating about her. There always had been. He was unsure why Ambrose had decided or agreed to marry her. She was cunning and manipulative and so was Ambrose but it appeared that Cordelia had just edged him out in the end. While he wouldn’t outright accuse Cordelia of foul play to her face, he knew that this wasn’t some innocent instance where she had no involvement at all. “Flourishing, right…” He’d drone off with a roll of his eyes. “You forsake my father’s legacy and business partners by engaging in shady practices enforced by that Ala-Mhigan brute you’ve got roaming the halls.” 

She paused in her retreat, a quiet moment passing before a dark chuckle escaped her that sounded a lot deeper due to the halls around them. “Do you have a sudden concern with morality, Damien?” The inquiry came as she spun around to address him with a stern tone, leveling her gaze on him despite the height difference. “The ledgers speak for themselves and as they continue to grow, as will the success of the Gray name. I’M doing that. Not Ambrose, not Virgil Gray, ME. You can whine and groan all you want about me and what transpired with your brother, but you will not deny my success and you will fall in line because despite your incessant complaints I am the head of your household, Lord Gray.”

Their back and forth was normally limited to she and Ambrose. While Damien loved Ambrose, he knew that there were qualities within him that others disliked and that were 

not in any way favorable. He’d allow Cordelia and others to lodge complaints against Ambrose and his character but a line was crossed when she mentioned his father. Virgil was kind and hardworking. He was an all around good father that cared legitimately about his children and his businesses and wanted his family to succeed and Damien wasn’t about to allow Cordelia to speak of him. In a swift moment, Damien had reached out to grab the collar of her dress to forcefully slam her into the wall of the estate. “You, Cordelia of Nothing, do not get to speak on my father as if you are anything but a speck of dust in his shadow.” 

Her body stiffened as she braced for the force of slamming to the wall, her hand instinctively shot up to take hold of his wrist. While her strength didn’t entirely match his, she held her own well enough. “Remove your hand from me, Damien, before I see that it is removed from you.” Cordelia felt little fear for most in life and her brother in law was hardly an excuse to that. Then again, even if she was fearful even the slightest, not a soul would be able to tell. “I believe it is you that is of nothing. Little land, a title merely in name alone. You should be thankful of the work I am doing for your family name.” 

Her request of him removing his hand had gone ignored. He was not keen to remove it and certainly was not going to do something that she asked purely because she asked alone. No, his grip only tightened as he twisted the fabric of her shirt and his knuckles turned white from the pressure. “Remove my hand?” He asked in a tone of slight amusement. “Are you threatening me now, Cordelia? Let’s not tread in waters that may be too deep.” His tone had deepened as his gaze narrowed. No one aside from Laurant and Alain had known of Damien’s descent with the voidsent and they didn’t even comprehend the powers that he had obtained and was now capable of. “I’ll be thankful for you when you’re dead.” 

Cordelia narrowed her eyes at him, a twitch of a smirk on her lips. “Who’s threatening who now, Damien?” With her one hand remaining on his wrist, the other swiftly reached up to pluck the one of the large hair pins from her twisted updo which allowed for her raven locks to fall slightly. She brought the pin just before his eye, gripping it tightly with the point directed at his pupil. “Do not make me ask again. Walk away.”

He was unsurprised to find out that Cordelia had some sort of weapon on her, even one disguised as a hairpin. His head canted to the side slightly to bring the tip away from his pupil to rest along the flesh of his cheek just below the corner of his eye. He’d lean in slightly, the tip of the pin pricking his flesh to draw blood. The grip on her shirt had relaxed only so that he could reposition his fingers around her neck. His grip tightened and the muscles in his arm had flexed underneath the tailored shirt. If he had wanted to, he could’ve easily lifted her off of the stone floor to bring her eye level. “You tempt things you do not understand, Cordelia,” he spoke, his tone dropping slightly as his gaze narrowed. 

She tensed now at the feeling of his hand around her throat, the slowly deprived airway causing her to begin to lose her balance the longer his grip remained. Still, she showed no signs of fear, her pride took over way too much for such things. With a raspy voice, she offered one last warning, though gave no opportunity for him to remove his handle on her. Pulling the pin from his face, she swiftly jabbed it toward his arm to aim at his wrist with a forceful thrust. “I said…let me go!” 

There was no doubt that she meant what she said. He knew Cordelia to be someone of her word and they were both bordering on a dangerous game. Though he did not entirely expect her to drive the hairpin deeply into his wrist. The sudden movement had caused Damien to hiss in pain as he drew his injured hand back away from her throat. The other hand had swung back to deliver a backhanded smack of full force along the side of Cordelia’s face. “You bitch,” he spat through gritted teeth as his hand recoiled after the smack to grab the thicker end of the hairpin and slowly pull it from his flesh. 

Initially she was pleased with the damage she had caused though when his hand swung and made contact with her cheek, an audible and innate gasp escaped her. Her face turned from him with the force and she kept her gaze off to the side as fingers softly grazed the tender skin that now nearly glowed red. Cordelia was able to show restraint in most things and instances, surprisingly the same restraint was shown here despite the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Finally looking back to him, the hand that held to her face now shot toward him, a finger pointing directly to his chest. “I warned you, Damien. Stand down, learn your place, the same place you have been put by your own family. I’m done here.” With that, she turned and attempted to push past him to take her leave. 

When the entirety of the pin had been removed from his wrist, he had dropped it to the floor as he tore part of his sleeve from his shirt away so that he could wrap it tightly around his wrist. “You act so pompous,” he retorted as his hand tightly gripped his wrist as it bled through the white fabric. “You’d be nothing without Ambrose. Without the Gray’s and here you are acting as if you created it yourself.” When she attempted to stomp past him, Damien had used his larger body to block her path as his shoulders hunched slightly to bring his features closer to hers. “I will get so much satisfaction in feeding you to the voidsent.” 

Cordelia stopped in her tracks, obviously her smaller form being caught against him. “Send your shadows, Damien, I do not fear the darkness. Now, move.” At this point, her eyes were locked onto his with a deep fire.

There was a glare shot down at her as she responded. While he knew that Cordelia had possessed a certain darkness of her own, he also knew what his was capable of and she had clearly put a target on her back. He’d hum in frustration for a moment before he stepped to the side to allow her to pass so that he could tend to his wound.

As she pushed passed him again, she paused only for a brief moment to glance over her shoulder. "Touch me again and I will kill you where you stand."

[ Collab with : @damien-gray-ffxiv]

@sanguinecourt-ffxiv

[bitterarcs]

02:00. Beside the gnawing desire for sleep and the small jolt of pain creeping up neck, the scarlet haired Turk was all grins  —  expression which either rendered accompanying party nervous or in equally high spirits. It was difficult to accurately judge the thoughts tumbling through Cloud’s head. Even when happy, the blonde man wasn’t keen on displaying a genuine smile. He knew his partner well enough after the years however.. rather knew himself well enough to know that his plans and erratic behaviour usually sparked annoyance or concern in others. Obvious dark clouds over the blonde Turk’s head and words prompted Reno to reel his hand back to slap the other man reassuringly on the shoulder.

                                (  ❛ What do I say about regret? It’s for suckers. Dreamers. Losers. We’ll come out of this alive. We always do.  ❜  )

Typical of Reno’s peptalks, it was short, abrasive, and most likely did not place any faith on his actions. His past actions however spoke to his cleverness and ability to dodge trouble. A reassuring pat turned into a push, and the redhead grinned even more at his own action. Before Cloud could usher any sort of complaint or squirrel out of the situation, Reno pressed a finger to lips in a shushing motion. He walked forward, more like stalked forward like a carnivore, quietly opened the door at the front of them, and sneaked inside the dark room. Blazing lights from a bustling city were mostly blocked out by window coverings, but enough penetrated through blinds to give some shapes away.

A clock on the table, a coat stand, several cots, and a sleeping body occupying one cot. Reno moved closer to the singular sleeping body and in the dimness of the room, motioned for Cloud to hand him the bottle they had brought. Once it was handed over, Reno took another three steps closer, removed the lid of the canister, and broke the silence with the shhhhhing sound of shaving cream being dispensed. The sleeping body stirred but did not wake up. Ten seconds passed like ten minutes. Afterwards, Reno half turned to hand the canister and cap to Cloud, freeing his hands to retrieve the chocobo feather from the inside pocket of his blazer. With the lengthy feather, Reno was able to tickle the sleeping man from a safe distance.

A tickle here. A tickle there. It wasn’t until he tickled the man’s bald head that a shaving cream filled hand quickly snapped up to scratch at the invader. The sudden noise in the quiet of the room was enough to have a burst of laughter jolting from Reno’s lips. The sound smacking sound of cream against head was too wet and comical. Reno slapped his hands against his lips to stop the laughter, but it was too little to late. A disgruntled Rude jerked up into a sitting position, but before any threat could be issued, the redheaded Turk was bolting out of the door, pushing Cloud along. His laughter uncontained even as he spoke.

                                 (  ❛  CLOUD! How could YOU ?!  ❜  )  

                          “    i’m going to regret this, aren’t i   ”   @cloudvii​

                                 (  is this a love confession, cloud ??  )

[chocobo-translations]

Iripon: W! H! A! T!!! I joined in for one song of Chocobo’s one man as a surprise! We had six people! Cool, right!? Practicing with everyone and performing onstage together for the first time in two years, I missed it so much, it felt fresh, and anyway, it was fun〜〜✌️ 💖 ! And I got to wear this costume for the first time in a while! I’ll continue to cheer for Chocobo from now on!!! Forever friends 🤝 !

(t/n: Iripon was the red member of Chocobo from their formation until 2016, when he left because he didn’t want to become an idol like the others did. He’s still very active as a solo odorite. The costume he’s wearing is from the MV for their second single, Vivid Dreamers.)

[leeus-writing]

Where is Home?

Anon asked for: Reno, Cloud and Rufus? Where reader leaves after an argument and ends up getting injured. Just some fluffy angst.

Hope you like this. This one is:

Reno

“Reno I’m not living here. I’m sorry but it’s awful. The people in this stairwell!? My bike got stolen. Then my Shoes when I left them outside the apartment. I’d stepped in Chocobo poo and they STILL GOT TAKEN! It’s my home or not at all!” You snapped fists balled.

“No Way! I’m not living with ya posh lot! Geeze! I’ll just get accused of being your Prozzy!” He snapped back folding his arms.

You laughed, exasperated, the hell was wrong with him! You ran your hands trough your hair and just walked in a circle. This was just… just.

“Well… Maybe if you didn’t dress like you do!”

“WHAT? I’VE ALWAYS DRESSED LIKE THIS!” Reno snapped, his hands spread out before him to emphasize his point.

No at that point you were sick of it. You turned and went to walk out the door. Your living arrangements with Reno had been a point of tension for days now. But now, you were done.

“Where are you going!” Reno shouted after you as you picked up your bag and keys on the way out.

“HOME, to MY home!” You snapped back opening the door and shutting it with a loud slam “bastard” you muttered as you walked down the hallway.

Reno kicked his kitchen table, breaking one of the legs causing it to clatter to the floor before sitting down on his sofa gripping his hair.

| |

Reno stood looking out his window. Midnight had come and gone, and he’d not heard from you. He’d sent a message expecting a reply. Nothing. He’d sent an apology, nothing. He’d called Rude who suggested that you were probably cooling off. Yeah, maybe. But you’d never gone this long without calling or messaging, not even after big fights.

Finally, your phone rang. Not a number you recognised.

“Hello?” Reno’s voice was cracking a little.

“Mr Lincon?”

Reno frowned, no one knew his last name apart, from maybe the bank…. HR and the guy who he rented from… and you! But this voice he didn’t recognise. Why would HR or the Bank be calling him at this time of night?

“My name is Reno… Just Reno,” Reno replied.

“Reno, my name is Dr Jones… Y/N was in a car accident your down as her-”

“WHAT HAPPENED WHERE IS SHE!”

“If you could just come down to Midgar Mercy West Hospital-”

Reno cut the call off before the Doctor could say anything else.

| |

You blinked a few times, confused as you woke up. You tried to sit up but ached to much. Blinking again, you turned your head to look around and saw you were in a hospital room. A heat monitor bleeped a few times, and you spotted a drip hooked up to you. With a moan you reached out for a button to alert someone, maybe they could explain? A nurse came in before you had a chance to press the button.

“Shh, Y/N. You’ve been in an accident. We’ve called your boyfriend and he’ll be here soon. Dr Jones has just had to step away, but he’ll be back to talk to you.”

You nodded before hearing a racket and a blaze of red hair.

“Y/N I’M SO SORRY!” Reno shouted running to your side “Are ya alright. Who hit ya? I’ll fucking kill em!”

A man you could only assume was a doctor walked in, “Mr Reno I assume? And Y/N Its nice to see you’re awake. Right then,” He clicked on a tablet screen and cleared his voice, “So from reports at the scene, it was assumed you’d been hit by a car. Unfortunately, this accident has broken both your left leg and right arm. You also got a good whacking to the head as well, which we are monitoring. Unfortunately, we have had to remove one of your kidneys and repair damage to your heart and liver…”

You swallowed and licked your lips. “How long will I be in the hospital?” You croaked.

“Love, don’t worry about that, I’ll watch ya house. Heck, I’ll move in. You’re right. My area it’s too dangerous,” Reno said stroking your hand.

You shook your head, “No… we’ll find a place together,” you replied.

Reno nodded, “yeah, you’re right that would be great. A home of our own. I’d like that.”

He took your hand and slowly started stroking your knuckles with his thumb. The Doctor smiled just a little, “It will take some time for you to recover. We may also have to perform further surgeries. Recovery may include some rehabilitation. It’ll be hard work, but I see you have a strong support network.”

You nodded and smiled up at Reno before yawning.

“We’ll leave you to rest and come back later,” Doctor Jones stated before leaving.

“I wont leave ya unless ya want me to,” Reno told you getting his phone out.

“I’d like you to stay a little longer,” You replied to reno before falling asleep.

| |

@electric-turks

@broken-kitty1995

@renohasbigtits

@finalsegamangalover

@miss-celeste

@okarawrites

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2022 - Day 7 Prompt: "Pawn"

LET THE RECORD SHOW: I wrote yesterday's piece well before today's prompt had been announced, but since I seem to have accidentally ALREADY USED TODAY'S PROMPT WORD YESTERDAY, it seems like we're getting part 2 right away. I guess it was destiny.

Timeline: ARR patch quests

Also: Wolmeric nonsense, before they were wolmeric (but at least both people actually appear in this one)

=====================

Through the bitter winds of the Coerthan wilderness, the Warrior of Light bounded on chocoboback, a speck of lavender and yellow against a landscape of somber grays. She rode in silence, the words of the Antecedent still reverberating in her mind.

Such notoriety is the price of making an impact, she mused to herself. She could see the logic in the words, but still struggled to bring herself to accept them. Had she truly lost the option to return to small odd jobs, contenting herself with traveling a bit and quietly being a help where she could? Had she really been intractably set as a fixture of throne rooms and war zones? Was there no way to withdraw herself from the curiosity of powerful people she had never even heard of?

She squinted into the driving snow and tried not to think on it. That was a dilemma for another time. She believed in the Scions’ cause. She wanted to do good, and surely that meant she could not refuse to serve the greater good. Her own comfort must needs come second. Not to mention that many people would sell their very souls to attract the kind of attention she had somehow stumbled into. She hardly had a right to complain.

Still, she glanced over to the Elezen teen riding astride the bird next to her, noting that he looked a bit too preoccupied with the frigid weather to maintain his customary placid, self-assured smile. She would not be making this trek at all were it not for his negotiations, a deal which had been struck without her consent. 

You are no pawn, Keimwyda, the memory of Minfilia's words reminded her. She was grateful to have been reassured of it—but she did rather wish she would have said the same to Alphinaud.

But no. She shoved the thought from her mind. It was not her place to argue, and this line of thinking helped no one.

At last the duo passed through the gates of Camp Dragonhead, wearily dismounted their chocobos, and handed the reins off to waiting attendants. They gratefully bundled into the office of Lord Haurchefant, who welcomed them with his customary aplomb.

At least this was one part of the journey she did not mind.

Keimwyda quietly returned his greeting with a smile. She had almost forgotten how different Haurchefant seemed from any of his Coerthan peers. His manner was so open, charming, and energetic, that she almost found it a little unsettling. Almost being the key word—through their interactions over the past months, she had come to trust him as a genuinely good-hearted man and an ally. She marveled that somehow, despite itself, Ishgard had managed to produce anyone like him.

“Our hearths have been stoked to blazing in preparation of your arrival,” he effused, looking directly at Keimwyda. “It would not do for such a distinguished personage to catch cold whilst enjoying our hospitality.”

She was flattered, but embarrassed, and attempted to demur the compliment, when Alphinaud stepped forward. She yielded the floor to him. It was his job to do the talking, after all. Haurchefant’s demeanor drooped ever so slightly, but he graciously pivoted, and the two hashed out all the necessary political pleasantries—expressions of indebtedness for past assistance, apologies for intruding upon one another’s courtesy, and so on and so on. 

Haurchefant grew more animated again as he began recounting his excitement over the Scions being granted an audience with the Holy See. Keimwyda could have sworn that his eyes kept darting meaningfully towards her as he spoke. At first, she could not fathom why. Alphinaud would be handling all the negotiations; she was just here for show.

Oh… OH. Oh, I see, she realized. It should have been obvious. So THAT is how this—Ser Aymeric, was it?—of course that is how he learned my name.

She hoped her face wasn’t reddening as much as she imagined it was. Much as she appreciated Haurchefant's kindness, she was not sure how she felt about him singing her praises throughout Ishgard. She believed that he was sincere in his efforts. She did not believe the same of his superiors.

Before she knew it, she and Alphinaud were escorted into the intercessory, a low but well-lit and well-warmed room, dominated by a large meeting table which Keimwyda found needlessly imposing. Alphinaud busied himself with his notes, acting if he was born to be here. Keimwyda, on the other hand, felt miserably out of place. She shifted uneasily on her feet, even as she took a deep breath and affixed a pleasant expression to her face.

Haurchefant must have noticed. “Have faith, my friend,” he said warmly, nudging her. “You need only state your case with confidence and clarity.”

She chuckled. “I believe I shall leave that bit to Alphinaud,” she began, but was interrupted as the door swung open.

Into the room stepped two tall figures. One was a female knight, clad in ornate plate armor that seemed to outrank that of most others she had seen in Coerthas. The woman's stern, quiet bearing almost subconsciously prompted Keimwyda to stand just a little bit straighter.

Beside her was a poised man, clad in golden armor and rich blue robes that fairly dripped with ornamentation. Keimwyda racked her mind to try and remember if she had seen that shade of blue on any of the high house standards—and she didn’t think she had. Not even the officers or priests she met had been so well-attired.

The man wore a calm, pleasant demeanor, and introduced himself as indeed the person of the hour: Aymeric, lord commander of the Temple Knights.

He greeted Alphinaud as “Commander Leveilleur”, and struck up formal small talk with him. He had a genteel manner about him, and his conversation flowed smoothly. Keimwyda had been prepared for something much more akin to the judgmental scowls and cold shoulders that had most often greeted her all the way up the chain of command in Coerthas. She did not waver from her own polite smile, but still regarded him warily. The Temple Knights were agents of the Inquisition, surely? She wondered what his game was.

She had not even realized how blissfully she had been left out of the conversation, until the lord commander turned and addressed her directly. “...Speaking of reputations, yours towers over us all. Does it not?”

As his companion dutifully voiced agreement and Haurchefant nodded, beaming, the Warrior of Light wanted nothing more than to shrink and disappear into the stonework of the intercessory. Nonetheless, she smiled mellowly and gave a light bow. “You are too kind, Ser Aymeric.”

He continued, “I am not too proud to admit that I have followed your activities with an interest bordering on fascination. Full glad was I to learn that you would be joining us.”

Keimwyda’s pleasant smile did not move, but her mind raged with alarum bells. His words seemed complimentary enough, but the last people she had known the Holy See to regard with “interest” had been under suspicion of heresy. Haurchefant’s glowing excitement notwithstanding, she did not trust this man further than she could throw him, and she felt anything but flattered by his “fascination”. She most certainly did not like that he seemed to know so much more about her than she knew about him.

She was grateful that the conversation turned immediately to the negotiations, allowing her the mercy of not coming up with a reply.

As he made ready to set about the business at hand, Alphinaud gave her a pleased nod of approval.

She wondered if this is what trained animals felt like when they were summoned to perform tricks for the houseguests.

You are no pawn, Keimwyda.

She ignored her misgivings for the moment and willed her attention into the meeting. She was not about to lower her guard around these Ishgardians, and she would carefully hear what they had to say. 

But she made a mental note for later: she must give long and serious thought to whether this was truly the life she wanted.

[razieltwelve]

Uncle (Final Effect)

Her Imperial Majesty Averia VII stared at the man in the travel-worn cloak for a long moment before letting out a most un-majestic cry and throwing herself at him.

“You’re here!”

The man chuckled and managed to keep himself from being knocked off his feet. His weathered features creased into a smile. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t miss my favourite niece’s wedding.”

“Technically,” Jahne drawled. “She’s not exactly your niece.”

The man waved away the comment with a chuckle. “I’ll let the Dia-Farron branch of the family work out the exact relation. Niece is close enough.” He ruffled Averia’s hair. “Heh. Look at you. You’re all grown up now. The last time I saw you was at your coronation. Dust, you were young to be taking the throne, but your father insisted.”

“He had his reasons,” Averia said. Her lips twitched. “I know you two argued about it.”

“What are cousins for?” The man grinned. “I’m one of the few people in the galaxy with the authority to call your father an idiot when he’s being one, so I gave him a piece of my mind. I don’t care how talented you were, putting the whole galaxy on your shoulders wasn’t fair.” He shook his head. “Of course, it is hard to argue with results.”

Averia eased away from him. “So... how is everyone? And how did you even get into the palace without me knowing...?” She trailed off as Lord Hedgeborough gave a most suspicious sniff. “Lord Hedgeborough?”

“Yep. Well, him and Claire.” The man scratched the back of his head. “They gave me the heads up as soon as you three settled on a date, so I’d have plenty of time to get here. As for how everybody is, they’re all doing well.” He smirked. “A whole bunch of us will be heading over to the other galaxy after the wedding too. You know how we are. We’re fiddle footed, and there’s a whole new galaxy to explore.”

“What about Inferno?” Averia looked around, half-expecting the chocobo to appear at the mere mention of his name. “He’s here too, right?”

“He sure is.” The man whistled, and a huge red-and-black chocobo vaulted through the nearest window. “He was just taking a look around the gardens, seeing if everything is the same and all.”

“Probably visiting the chocobo stables too,” Jahne teased.

“Kweh...” Inferno did the chocobo equivalent of waggling his eyebrows. “Kweh kweh.”

“Yeah, I bet you’re popular with the ladies,” Jahne replied. 

The chocobo padded over to Averia and gave her an affectionate nudge with his beak. “Kweh... kweh!”

“Hatchlings?” Averia blushed. “The wedding hasn’t even happened yet! And we’re still working out the specifics.”

Inferno shrugged. “Kweh kweh.”

The man nudged Inferno with his elbow. “Things are simpler for chocobos. You know that, buddy. Humans and Faunus tend to complicate things more.” He looked around. “And speaking of complicating things... I just thought I’d let you know I’ll be stepping down from my position soon. Inferno too, actually. We’re not exactly spring chickens anymore.”

“Oh.” Averia paused. “Are you sure, Uncle Taren?” 

“I’m sure.” Taren sighed. “I’ve been the Taren for a long time now, and Inferno has been the Fury just as long too. My son’s ready to take over, and Inferno has one last test to give Blaze before he lets him take charge. Leading the Wayfarers isn’t easy, but I’m proud to say I’ve led us well. But with this new galaxy and everything, I thought it was time to let someone new take charge. It’s a new era, kiddo. That’s just how it is.”

“What will you do?” Averia asked.

“What will I do?” Taren stared out the window. “I’m going to go see that new galaxy. Inferno and I have always loved archaeology, so we’re going to travel. We’re going to learn everything we can about the people over there, and then we’ll start exploring. There’s bound to be other people we haven’t met yet, and who knows what kinds of ruins we might find?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Averia smiled. “You will let me know if you need anything, right?”

“Sure.” Taren looked around. “But right now, though, what I could use is a bite to eat.”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Taren here is the head of Taren’s branch of the family. Many of them travel the galaxy, exploring and wandering in search of adventure. They are referred to as the Wayfarers, and they actually have their own fleet. As the leader, Taren is referred to as the Taren (it’s both a title and, coincidentally, his name). Inferno is the leader of the chocobos who accompany them everywhere, and his title is the Fury. 

The Wayfarers are a powerful faction in their own right. Due to their numbers and the alliances and connections they have formed over the course of their travels, the Wayfarers wield considerable political and commercial influence not only in the Empire but also throughout the galaxy as a whole. They also serve as valuable scouts. They are almost always the first to detect incoming Grimm swarms, and they play a vital role in evacuating and defending outlying settlements during the initial stages of a Grimm incursion. 

When gathered in its entirety, the Wayfarer Fleet is equivalent to an entire Imperial Fleet in combat power. The Wayfarer Fleet is also incredibly diverse, and it is capable of not only warfare but also settlement, commerce, and many other functions. Indeed, the Wayfarer Fleet is essentially a fully functioning civilisation in and of itself.

Due to the power he wields, Taren was quite familiar with Averia and her father. Averia, as was customary, also spent some time with the Wayfarers. She enjoyed her time with them, and the two became quite close. Taren was one of several people who disagreed with the decision to have Averia ascend to the throne at such a young age since he felt it wasn’t fair. That said, he fully believed in her ability to handle it. He just didn’t think she should have to.

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 or on Audible here.

[echoes-of-the-clockwork]

Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XII

The royal retinue and guardian split up in their respected groups. Noctis and Ignis went to search for the base's commander while Prompto, (Y/n), and Gladio caused a diversion. The blonde glanced between the two. "So, what's on the menu today for diversions?"

"The bigger stuff will make the biggest explosions. We'll start with any tanks or mechs," Gladio answered.

"That's great and all, but how're we planning on getting inside?" (Y/n) asked.

"You can carry two people, right?" The shield rebuttals with his own question.

"I think so."

"Good, because we're gonna find a hole in their patrol schedule and you're gonna carry us inside."

The spirit looked at the tall walls of Fort Vaullery. She wondered if she could jump to the top with two people on her back. "Guess we'll see soon enough..."

The trio watched the soldiers and MTs for a while before locating a place where they could infiltrate the fort without being spotted. (Y/n) transformed and the two boys climbed onto her back. She pushed herself off the ground and took note of the slight difficulty it was to carry two people. Her spiritual form was about the size of three chocobos and only really allowed for one person to ride on her back. She just mentally prayed she wouldn't drop one of them in her attempt to reach the top of Fort Vaullery's walls.

Getting a running start, the fox sped towards the fort. She leapt as high as she could and managed to land on the ramparts of Fort Vaullery. Watching the enemies' movements closely, she waited for the perfect opportunity to hop down to ground level. She carried Prompto and Gladio towards the area of the fort where they stored the energy tanks and mechs.

When they arrived are their destination, the two boys slid off the fox's back. (Y/n) reverted to her human form and glanced around the area. In the distance, she spotted the black car that had been following them earlier. "What a surprise..." She sarcastically muttered.

"What is?" Prompto asked, following her line of sight. "Oh..."

Gladio wondered what the two were looking at. Seeing the vehicle, his eyes narrowed. "Guess someone from the empire was really following us. But it's not our problem anymore. Let's blow some shit up."

(Y/n), Prompto, and Gladio got to work on their diversion. They blew up many of the energy tanks and mechs, grabbing the attention of the entire base. The two boys used their weapons to wreak havoc while the guardian used her variety of fire spells to destroy the imperial weaponry and the approaching enemies. Among the crowd of soldiers and MTs, she spotted a familiar pair of emerald eyes and spiky black tresses. She glared at Callyx as he pushed through the imperial forces, commanding them to stand down.

The girl, noticing Callyx has a sword in his grasp, placed herself in between him, Prompto, and Gladio. She summoned the Creator's Blade, eyes never leaving the man for a second. He came to a halt a few feet in front of her, scowling. "I don't know if you all are moronic or brazen for infiltrating this place in board daylight."

"You were the one following us. Why?" (Y/n) demanded.

Callyx raises his sword and points the sharp tip at her chest. "You're the spirit the empire's searching for-the conduit. I was convinced you weren't until I saw your blade. You've a lot of nerve lying to me."

"I only became the conduit after visiting the Archaean," she spat. "But why does that matter? You told me yourself you wanted to protect our people."

A wicked grin manifested on the man's face. "Oh, please. That was a bunch of nonsense. I only said such a thing to get closer to you, but it didn't work. You were guarded the entire time."

Her glare sharpened. "So then what's your true goal?"

"To kill the conduit."

(Y/n)'s grip tightened on the hilt of her blade. "Were you the one who killed the woman in Lestallum?"

Callyx chuckled. "Of course, but I only did so because of you. You are the reason she died. Her husband must've been devastated."

"You've got a lot of nerve blaming me. You're the one who betrayed his own people."

"Of course I did, and I'll keep doing it until I become the conduit. All I have to do is keep killing spirits until Brahma has no other choice but to choose me. With his power, the empire will be indestructible and no one will be able to stop them."

"You're a sick bastard," Gladio growled.

"Call me what you like. Just like you, I'm only serving my kingdom with every fiber of my being," Callyx scoffed.

(Y/n) swung her sword and forced the man to retract his blade from her chest. Without looking at her companions, she addressed them. "Prompto, Gladio, regroup with Noctis and Ignis. I'll handle him."

"Be careful," Prompto said. He, although reluctant to leave her, trusted in her fighting abilities.

Gladio also believed in her strength and didn't argue. "Don't keep us waiting too long, short stuff."

"I'll try to make this quick," she replied.

Prompto and Gladio rushed off. Callyx ordered his men to pursue them while he remained behind. He stared into the girl's golden eyes once all the imperial troopers and MTs were gone. "Are you going to hand over that sword or will I have to pry it from your dead body?"

"No way in hell you're getting this sword," she hissed.

Callyx sighed. "This would've been much easier if you knew who you truly were."

She couldn't help but laugh. "I already know the truth about myself, but that doesn't change my loyalty."

"But what about that boy you care so much for? Does he know the truth?" (Y/n) tensed, which caused Callyx to guffaw. "So he doesn't? A shame if he or the others knew who you truly were. Would they cut all ties with you? Or even try to kill you? I am quite curious as to what their reactions would be. Maybe I should tell them."

"As if they would believe you," she sneered.

"Very true." Callyx jammed his sword into the ground. "Enough chitchat. Let's fight like real guardians." His body was enveloped in a bright light. When it vanished, a black tiger with emerald stripes, black horns, and wings stood in the man's place.

(Y/n) didn't hesitate to transform. In her spiritual form, she growled threateningly at Callyx. She nimbly leapt to the side when he launched himself at her. His form was bigger than hers, which meant she had the upper hand in agility. She kept her distance from the emerald-eyed tiger, trying to think of a plan of attack.

Callyx used a lightning spell. A bolt of lightning emitted from his front paws and darted towards the fox. (Y/n) promptly used her tails to form a large fireball and used it to absorb the lightning. She then hurled the fireball towards the tiger, but he easily jumped out of the way.

The moment (Y/n) went to conjure a fire vortex, Callyx pounced on her. He tackled her to the ground and dug his sharp claws into her side. She cried out in pain, struggling against the tiger as his fangs sunk into the flesh of her back. Using her many tails, she wound them around his body and yanked him off her. Tossing him aside, she got to her feet. Blood seeped from her injuries, trailing down her side and dripping to the ground. She bore her fangs with a menacing growl, the white tips of her tails becoming engulfed with flames. Each one shot forward and impaled the tiger.

Callyx roared as the blazing appendages pierced his flesh and burned his insides. Although the pain was unbearable, he managed to fight through it and free himself from the tails. Before he could attack (Y/n), she had pinned his body to the ground with hers. Her gold-slitted eyes bore into his emerald ones as she snarled at him. She placed her paw against his front right leg and used all her weight to step down. She heard and felt the bone crack under her weight.

The tiger roared out in pain, but he was soon met with even more anguish when a searing pain overtook his right eye. (Y/n) had used the tip of one of her tails to burn his right eye, permanently blinding him. She leapt back, putting some distance between her and Callyx.

Reverting back to her human form, she pressed a hand against her bleeding side with a wince. Her golden eyes never left the tiger, watching his right eye bleed and his front right leg twitch slightly at the strange angle it was bent. She huffed out a chuckle at seeing his pitiful state. "Looks like you lose, Callyx." She exhaled deeply, the pain in her side and back blooming. "As much as I would love to watch you squirm around like this, I need to catch up with the others. I'm sure some of your imperial buddies will patch you up, but don't expect to be seeing anything with your right eye ever again. After all you've done, you deserve more. Have fun writhing around in pain, you bastard." Turning her back to the tiger, she walked away.

With her hand still pressed against her bleeding side, (Y/n) trudged through Fort Vaullery in search of the boys. She came across some imperial troopers and MTs, but she quickly disposed of them with her fire magic. Her vision was beginning to blur due to the blood loss, the edges of her eyes slowly being consumed by darkness.

After trekking around the fort for some time, the spirit found the boys fighting against a woman. She saw how skilled she was, admiring her movements before deciding to help her friends. She conjured a throwing knife made of pure flames and threw it at the woman, catching her off guard. Noctis took the chance to attack, but his blade only sliced air when the woman leapt up into the air and landed on a platform above. "Aw, is it that time already?"

Noctis lowered his sword, puzzled at her question. "What time?"

"Quittin' time. Sorry, but this girl doesn't work after hours. I could, but there wouldn't be a single gil in it for me. We should play again sometime, pretty boy. And you." The woman met (Y/n)'s gaze. "I look forward to seeing you in action, firefly." She leaps out of sight, almost as if vanishing into thin air.

All the boys turn in wonderment as to whom the woman was addressing. Their eyes landed on the injured (Y/n), who was having difficulty standing on her own. Prompto gasped in horror when seeing the blood seeping through her fingers and cascading down her side. "(Y/n)!" He rushed over just in time to catch her as her legs gave out. Her body slumped against his as he fell to a single knee. "I need help over here!"

Ignis rushes over and kneels beside the couple. He pulls (Y/n)'s hand away from her wound and saw the severity of it. He saw not only her side was injured but her back as well. Using a couple of hi-potions, he was able to mend the wounds and stop the bleeding. "She will be needing rest."

"Thanks, Iggy," Prompto sighed in relief.

(Y/n) was able to get back on her feet, but the blonde wouldn't let go of her. "Prom, I'm fine. I can walk."

He shook his head. "No way. You're pale and you still look like you're about to pass out. Lemme give you a piggyback ride."

She exhaled heavily, knowing he was right. She was feeling lightheaded and wouldn't make it far before passing out. Accepting his offer, she climbed onto his back when he turned around and squatted down. She loosely wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands cupped the back of her knees. He gently hoisted her onto his back, making a few adjustments when he stood up.

"What happened to you?" Noctis asked the girl as they make their way out of Fort Vaullery.

"Callyx happened," she replied. "That bastard's the one who killed Cynthia and so many other spirits. He's so desperate to gain Brahma's powers that he's willing to kill his own people for it. I made sure he suffered."

"Is he still alive?" Gladio questioned.

"Yeah, but I left him with a broken leg and blind in his right eye."

"Why didn't you kill him?"

"Death would be an easy escape for him. I want him to suffer for all he's done." (Y/n) leaned her head against the side of Prompto's. She closed her eyes, intending to clear her head. However, she wound up passing out.

<-------------<<<<<

Back in Old Lestallum, the royal retinue regrouped with Iris. The young Amicitia noticed the passed out guardian on Prompto's back and began bombarding them with questions as they piled into the Regalia. With Gladio's help, Prompto was able to get (Y/n) off of his back and into his lap in the front seat of the car. Riding out of the small town, he held her close against him.

Gladio, wishing to shatter the silence, spoke up. "I coulda gone another round."

"Given her prowess, you should be glad you didn't," Ignis stated.

"Yeah, that Loqi guy was nothing compared to her," Prompto chimed in.

"Though we may not have fared so well without the marshal."

"Think things would've gone differently if he were here now?"

"She offered to play again. Maybe we'll get the chance to find out," the shield said.

"Wonder what happened that other guy," Noctis pondered. "Y'know, the one who injured (Y/n)."

"You mean Callyx?" Prompto asked.

"Yeah."

The blonde combed his fingers through the spirit's (h/c) locks. "(Y/n) did say she injured him pretty badly."

"Probably pissed him off, though," Gladio spoke up.

"I pray we do not encounter him soon," Ignis added. "For (Y/n)'s sake."

Prompto continued to stroke the sleeping girl's hair before twirling a single strand around his finger. He listened to her even and steady breathing, which brought him some semblance of peace. He didn't care that the others could see him. He wasn't as shy as before in front of the guys when it came to (Y/n). It may have also been easier to control his emotions when she wasn't awake and teasing him.

During the drive, Prompto removes one of his hands from the spirit and searched for his camera. When he found it, he flipped through the pictures until he came across one of Callyx and (Y/n) at the Cauthess Coernix Station. He examined the photo closely, eyes widening when he took a closer look at the man standing beside the golden-eyed spirit. Callyx was wielding a small dagger that was partially hidden by the sleeve of his jacket. Thinking back to the time he took the picture, he remembered he interrupted the two guardians right after taking it. If he hadn't intervened, Callyx could've possibly killed (Y/n).

"Is everything all right, Prompto?" Ignis asked after noticing the blonde's extended silence.

Prompto didn't hesitate to show the picture to the others. Noctis took the camera from his best friend and analyzed the picture, easily spotting the small dagger Callyx was trying to conceal. "Would he really have killed (Y/n) right then and there?"

Gladio took the camera from the prince and took a glance at the photo. "Wouldn't put it past the bastard, especially after hearing what he said at the fort."

"It's a good thing I showed up when I did," Prompto said. "If not...(Y/n) could be dead right now."

"Oh, that reminds me," Iris spoke up. "What did Geralt have to say?"

Prompto looked over his shoulder and peered into the backseat. "He told me a couple of things about a guardian's death."

"Well that's...gruesome," Noctis mumbled.

"Like what?" Gladio pried.

"He showed me the ring he wore that had Cynthia's gemstone on it. He told me it once was blue, but the gemstone was cracked and black. If a spirit dies, their gemstone loses its color and cracks." Prompto glanced down at his bracelet with a solemn gaze. "He...also mentioned what it felt like to lose her."

"He felt her die?" Iris gasped.

The boy nodded. "Yeah. He said it felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest."

"The connection between Geralt and Cynthia was severed," Ignis said.

"You know about it, Specs?" Noctis inquired.

The strategist nodded. "I've read a plethora amount of tomes in regards to guardians. When a spirit is killed, the connection to the soul of which gave birth to them is torn asunder. The pain is a result of the rupture between the two binded souls."

"Damn..."

Prompto bit his bottom lip with a sorrowful expression. He inhaled deeply, remembering what he told the widower. "I promised Geralt I would protect (Y/n), but...I guess I've kinda already failed."

"I don't think you have," Iris voiced her opinion. "She's still here, isn't she?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Who cares about what happened at the fort," Noctis sighed. "(Y/n)'s still breathing, right?"

Prompto tunes in to the spirit's deep and even breaths again. "Well, yeah."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just... I feel like I could've changed the outcome, y'know? Like, if I would've stayed behind with her to deal with Callyx, then she wouldn't have been injured."

"You can't protect her from everything and everyone, Romeo," Gladio said. "You're not some invincible, know-it-all hero from a comic book. So she got hurt this time, but she's still alive. That's all you need to care about."

Prompto's eyes gleamed with realization at their words. He nodded with a small smile. "Yeah, you guys are right. Thanks."

"Well, you cheered up quicker than usual," the shield commented.

"Glad we could help," Iris giggled.

"Eh, it's no big deal," Noctis replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

Glancing at the road ahead, Prompto's smile blooms. He holds (Y/n) as close as possible, overjoyed his worries were washed away by the words of his friends. He couldn't ask for a better group of people to travel with. "You guys are the best."

Gladio grinned from ear to ear. "Tell us something we don't know."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

[eorzean-tale]

Temporary Escape

Menphina still dominated the sky when he woke, and he rose silently as to not wake the ever vigilant Sahali from her own slumber. They had chosen to sleep just outside the town’s borders, the oppressive stone of the city being too much to bear after two moons of it already in Ishgard. He hadn’t bothered taking off most of his armour the eve before, so it only took him minutes to be ready. Minutes he’d definitely need if he was to be gone before Azeyma rose from her slumber - the moment when all Golden Vipers would wake to greet her. The entire two of them that were left. All the older serpent would find of him was the note he left behind - one promising he’d be back in a few suns.

He knew he shouldn’t go at all, knew his duty was here even if he still did not understand why. Rkah had expected an organized band of adventurers, of troublemakers, but they only seemed loose-knit at best. Like strangers to one another, who didn’t stand for anything as a group. The tia had to admit that the Conjurer who set their feet on this path probably got exactly what he wanted - now that they were away from the place that had bound them in a common purpose, the Unsung seemed to have lost all sense of cohesion, no longer forming any kind of threat to the status quo with just the occasional strong opinion the only exception. Those opinions weren’t worth much though, without anyone else to back them up.

And yet, something still gnawed on him, ate at his resolve from the inside out. He wasn’t one to linger on feelings of rejection and regret, but with nothing of note occupying his mind he found himself more and more the victim of uncharacteristic bouts of melancholy. The Seeker man had always felt things with unbridled intensity, but on occasion that passion for life turned against him. Rkah had felt it when the Elezen lord he had grown fond of, admittedly more than he should have for the short time they had known each other, had shut him out, and he felt it again when the Hyur woman he felt a kinship with had rejected a part of him he couldn’t change even if he wanted to.

The cities were just a stop on his journey, but they were not his home.

Except, maybe… He made it to the aetheryte, paying its fee to a nearby sleepy-looking attendee, then focused his being into the stream. Travelling like this didn’t sit well with him, though he could not really explain why. Perhaps his superstitious side couldn’t fathom coming out of the sea of aether without leaving at least something behind, or maybe it just felt a bit like cheating to a man from a nomadic tribe. Back when he still had his own people around him, their journeys took more than a Twelvemoon to complete. Only to then be taken again in the other direction. Rkah remembered spending more time on the road than anywhere else, and it was where he still felt most at home. 

Unfortunately he couldn’t spare the time it would take to go on foot, or even by chocobo. He appeared in the dry heat of Camp Drybone just as Azeyma rose up from her slumber, ready to welcome to Goddess with his arms outspread. And then all he had to do was find a comfortable place in the warm sun, and wait.

Cocoshan arrived first. The old Lalafell preferred to scout things out before the rest of them had a chance to catch up, but seeing Rkah standing there being his usual smug self, arms crossed as he lazily leaned against the wall, a shit-eating grin on his face made him curse.

“Well toss me over your shoulder and marry me off to a goblin,” he grumbled. “You were still listening to the linkpearl then?” The man did his best to look gruff, but Rkah knew him well enough to know that he was glad to see him. Instead of answering, the Miqo’te tia took a few brisk steps to close the distance between them, to clasp the small man’s arm in a brotherly manner. 

“If I married you off to a goblin, every Lalafell lass twixt here and the known world would weep in sorrow, old friend. It’s good to see you.” 

Cocoshan was about to warn him, but the whip crack voice of Blazing Horizon beat him to it. Their Roegadyn Flame Captain had arrived, and she needed no explanation to know what was going on.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

L’rkah visibly flinched, and his black-tipped ears lowered as he turned to face the imposing woman, her eyes as blazing as her name as she looked down on him. Shit, he thought. He hadn’t expected her to be on this mission. The tia had been pretty confident that his buddies would need little convincing to let him come with them - the chatter over the linkpearl had been grim with tales of most of his squadron being too wounded to be on active duty after their last assignment had gone awry. 

“You need me,” he countered as the two others under her command still able to fight arrived. Wyat - an Ala Mhigan thaumathurge that only looked small when standing next to Blazing Horizon’s imposing form, and Lina - a former Conjurer who had left the Fane behind her a long time ago. The both of them looked both surprised and happy to see him, though one glance at their commander told them that this was not something she had ordered without telling them, and the mood shifted to awkward shuffling as they waited for her to chew his ears off.

And then all eyes were on her, as she sighed and simply nodded. “Very well.”

Wyat whistled low, the sound conveying the sense of shock they all felt much better than words ever could. They’re in more trouble than I thought, Rkah silently thought to himself, a pang of guilt clumping around his heart. He was just one guy, and even had he been present he couldn’t have prevented the odds turning against them, but he couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault somehow. If he wasn’t out there frolicking with the Unsung, then maybe…

There was no time to wallow in misplaced feelings of guilt, though. After a short but warm welcome by his fellow Flames they were off.

---

Several days later, a group of tired men and women returned to Drybone. The nature of their particular work never really left them with a feeling of pride or victory after one of their missions, but someone needed to do what they did. There was honour in that duty, even if it left them with no joy, and there was camaraderie in their shared experiences. Lina was walking between Rkah and Wyat, her arms hooked into theirs, while Blazing and Coco walked a little ahead of them. 

The tia closed his golden eyes and sighed. He was tired, dirty, and his heart was heavy, but he felt good. He felt like he belonged, that he was a part of something. It was over too soon for his liking, but there was nothing he could do to keep them here. Hugs and well-wishes were exchanged, and before he knew it Rkah was alone with his captain, who had crossed her arms to make her glare look extra intimidating.

The man tried one of his grins, which earned him a quick slap on the back of the head. It hurt his pride more than anything, but the message was still clear: cut the crap. 

“Tell me why you came here, and none of this ‘you need me’ crap or so help me,” she ordered briskly as she looked him up and down. Over the years she had learned his body language well, and Blazing knew that his ears and tail would always betray his lies. At best, he could omit truths, but outright lying to his insightful captain was an exercise in futility.

“It’s driving me up the curtains,” Rkah started, but paused again. She wasn’t the type of woman who would respond well to what she deemed as whining, so he had to make sure his tone was neutral. “This mission of mine is a farce. The Unsung these suns aren’t the same as those that got in trouble - for the most part, and a Moogle could deliver these let..”

Blazing Horizon cut him off: “That was the duty you were given, and so you’ll see it through.” The woman kept talking, not giving him a chance to argue. “You need to step up, L’rkah. And think - if what is out in the open isn’t worthy of a Flame to waste his time on, then what else might be going on?” 

Rkah didn’t need to ponder that question, he had already done so many times in the past few moons. “Either I did something so heinous that they want me out of the way - which I would know about. Or..” He sighed, closing his eyes. “...Or they are testing me.” Blazing didn’t nod or give any other indication that she thought he was right. He already knew that. 

“And if I don’t want to be groomed for command? I like serving under you. I’m… happy here.”

That made her take her turn to sigh, the sound full of regret and resolve at the same time. “Doesn’t matter much, does it? Do me proud, Rkah,” she urged him in as gentle a tone as she ever spoke, clasping his shoulder. “Show these arsehats that you’re worth consideration, or screw it up so badly that they’ll hang you for being an embarrassment to the uniform or some such blabber.” When she grinned like that, she was the most beautiful woman he knew, Rkah thought as he mirrored the expression. The moment was short lived, and she briefly petted his shoulder before walking to the aetheryte. 

“No more sneaking off, Flame,” she commanded in a tone that would tolerate no backtalk, and just like that she was gone again. “Yes, ma’am,” he whispered to where she had been, before he focused and vanished himself.

[izakaya-jinh]

THE CALL OF LIGHT

PROMPT 3: FALLING - moving from a higher to a lower level, typically rapidly and without control.

Word Count: 1217 | MASTERLIST

“Now… now I have you! …Let expanse contract, let eon become instant… …Throw wide the gates that we may pass!”

“Safe journey, Warrior of Light. Find our friends, and bring them home!”

With those parting words from Tataru, Elwyn suddenly felt her headache fade as the world around her disappeared in a flash of brilliance. In its wake, her eyes opened to an otherworldly scene of almost snow-like specks of light rushing up to meet her in the darkness. As her body seemed to plummet towards them, the specks grew larger until her eyes widened.

Voices began to echo all around her as scenes of memories played out upon the surfaces of the crystalline pieces rushing past.

“Oh… do not look at me so.” The visage of her fallen friend floated by and with a pang of grief, Elwyn found herself turning to reach out helplessly for something she could not touch. As his image and final moments disappeared into the darkness beyond, Haurchefant’s name caught in her throat but her voice refused to sound. Her eyes stung as she reluctantly faced forward once more, staring into the endless abyss which aimed to swallow her.

“We did everything right. Everything that was asked of us, and still, still it came to this!” At the sound of the man’s voice, a chill ran down her spine. The Warrior of Darkness howled in anger as his image rushed towards Elwyn, stirring a memory of their battle and the tale of desperation that had brought Ardbert’s party to her world. And now, she too, plunged towards another world as the fate of her own hung in the balance.

She begrudged them not their reasons for fighting, knowing full well that she might have done the same in their place. Perhaps their methods were objectionable, but had she experienced the same despair, what wouldn’t she give to protect the world she and her friends lived in? Even her former comrade, Visrhianne, who often spoke of another world she called home, could not deny a debt to the world they shared for the friendships it had given her. As she continued to descend into the darkness, Elwyn recalled their parting with a heavy heart. If she ever made it back to her world, she would have to seek a way to mend their bond.

A sudden flash from behind her turned Elwyn’s vision white, followed by a rush of light that threatened to consume her entirely. Turning to see the source of the brightness, she found herself confronted with a terrifying and alien sight. While the scenes before were glimpses of her past, this one was undeniably torn from beyond her own sea of memory.

Set against a brilliant sky, the silhouette of a woman hovering at the edge of a vast torrent of golden light drew close. Hands outstretched as if to hold back the flood, the figure seemed to take notice of Elwyn’s presence and turned ever so slightly to glance behind.

“Your time has not yet come.” A familiar voice rang out, followed quickly by another surge of blinding light.

“No… Minfilia?!” Elwyn cried out, reaching for the vanishing image as it disappeared in a flash. A sudden wave of pain overcame her once more and everything faded as the claws of an unseen force dug into her mind.

---

When she came to, Elwyn could feel a glow that seemed to penetrate even through her firmly shut eyelids. Shielding her face as she opened her eyes, she found herself faced with an unfamiliar scene of lush purple vegetation and an unnaturally bright sky. Groggily stumbling to her feet, she mumbled something unintelligible and began to examine her surroundings. An eerie silence hung over everything, and she saw not a single sign of man or beast. It was as if the entire world had been brought to a standstill, trapped in a single, unending moment.

Yet as she turned her eyes skyward, a pair of birds fluttered away, though neither song nor cry escaped their throats. Unnerved by the silence, Elwyn bit her lip.

“Better to move and hope to find someone than remain here, I think.”

As she surveyed the environment once more, she noticed a worn path nearby that seemed to wind through the forest. Stumbling towards it, she began to follow the trail until a whiff of a familiar scent tickled her nostrils.

Smoke. And not the hot, acrid smoke of a blaze or wildfire. No, this smoke came from the comforting warmth of a campfire, accompanied by the smell of freshly cooked meat. Elwyn cautiously moved towards the smell as traces of aether danced around her fingertips in anticipation of a fight.

As she came upon the source of the smell, however, she began to relax. Standing by the campfire was a lone man and his chocobo, neither of which seemed geared for battle. The sound of Elwyn’s footsteps caught the man’s attention, to which he turned as he took a puff from his pipe. As the light fell upon his face, Elwyn’s eyes widened.

“Brendt!? What are you doing here!?”

The old man raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Can’t say I know the name, miss. Perhaps you’ve mistaken me for another. Rare to meet someone out here who’s not a peddler themself. What brings you into the wilds this time o’ night?”

Night? Bewilderment furrowed her brow as she looked at the sky then back at the old man.

“What do you mean, ‘this time of night’? It’s bright as day…”

The old man chuckled at what he called ‘the oldest joke in the book’ and with a sinking feeling Elwyn realized he had been completely serious.

“…‘An’ when, pray tell, did we last have a dark night? Ye rotten old drunk ye!’ the barman’d reply.

‘Over a hundred bleedin’ years ago, that’s when!’”

As the man continued to chuckle to himself, he offered Elwyn a drink.

“Thank you, but I’ll have to pass,” Elwyn replied, shaking her head. This was no time for drink. She had yet to gather her bearings and though she could hold her liquor, it still behooved her to remain sober for now.

Shrugging as if to say ‘Suit yourself,’ the man took a swig for himself.

“Well, I’ve roads to travel and wares to sell, but you—you’d best hurry along to the town nearby. Just head east through the trees, and aim for the shining tower. You’ll find the place soon enough. ‘Tis the biggest settlement for malms around.” The stranger smiled as he gathered his belongings and made ready to set off. “Go on, now, friend. They’ll take good care of you in the Crystarium.”

Elwyn sighed as she looked in the direction the man had indicated, and with a start, she noticed for the first time the crystalline spire towering above the landscape in the distance. The very same spire that had been so vividly carved into her memory during her time in Mor Dhona, and where she had spent her final moments before traveling to this world.

“So, in the end, we’re back where we started,” she muttered to herself incredulously. “Purple trees, daylight at night, and another Crystal Tower. Either this world is mad, or I am, and I’m not sure which one I’d rather be true. Now… I suppose if there are any answers about our friends, that’s where I should start.”

-

@seaswolchallenge​

[freyayuki]

Final Fantasy Record Keeper Japan Genesis Rhapsodos Current Stats and Relics

I started playing the Japanese version of the Final Fantasy Record Keeper (FFRK) mobile game because I heard that Genesis Rhapsodos (from Final Fantasy VII: Crisis Core (#ad)) just got new relics.

Currently, Genesis Rhapsodos is my absolute, most favorite Final Fantasy character, which was why I was so hyped to learn about his new relics. He’s the only reason why I’m playing this game.

Genesis Rhapsodos Current Relics

I went all in on the Fat Black Chocobo: A Blazing Forgery event banner. This is the banner that featured my fave’s new relics. I talk more about this in other posts, but, overall, it cost me 450 mythril (9 draws) before I managed to acquire all of Genesis’s currently available relics. In my English account, I had to spend 300 mythril to complete Genesis. 

Truly, the price of freedom is steep. Needless to say, there was a lot of grinding involved on both accounts, enough to burn anyone out. The things we do for our faves, huh? No regrets though because he came home. He actually came home! Hell, yes! Still so super thankful about this. It’s like a miracle, isn’t it?

Synchro Arcane Soul Break, Purgatorial Wave

Synchro Arcane Soul Breaks (SASB) or Syncs are currently the best type of Soul Break. Not everyone has one yet. In fact, until the arrival of the Fat Black Chocobo: A Blazing Forgery event and banner, my fave didn’t have one yet either.

I’ve been waiting forever (“Genesis Sync when?” has been my in-game message in the English version ever since I found out about the existence of Syncs) for him to get a Sync, which was why I just had to start playing the Japanese version of the game when I found out that that time has finally come.

Rune Rapier (VII-CC) is a 7-star rarity, Sword-type relic, which gave me Genesis’s Synchro Arcane Soul Break, Purgatorial Wave. I kept rerolling on my Japanese account until this weapon finally dropped.

I love Genesis’s Sync. Okay, I love all of his relics and Soul Breaks, so not exactly surprising. And, of course, I’m biased, so I think all his stuff is super special awesome. I’m also really happy to find out that Purgatorial Wave’s animation is voiced. Man, if only the English version of the game included voices, too.   

Limit Break Over Flow, Light of Rapture

Limit Break Over Flows are known as Limit Break Overstrikes in the Global version. These were just recently introduced there.

Deathbringer (VII-CC) is a 7-star rarity, Sword-type relic that gave me Genesis’s Limit Break Over Flow, Light of Rapture. This showed up alongside Genesis’s Sync, which was another reason why I decided to keep that account instead of rerolling some more. 

I was also really happy to find out that the animation for Light of Rapture includes voices as well. Hell, yeah! This is awesome. It’s all awesome. As can be expected, I take every opportunity to cast any of Genesis’s Soul Breaks.

Awakened Arcane Soul Break, Genesis Rhapsody

Awakened Arcane Soul Breaks (AASB) or Awakenings are the second best Soul Breaks after Syncs.

Red Rapier (VII-CC) is a 6-star rarity, Sword-type relic that gave me Genesis’s Awakened Arcane Soul Break, Genesis Rhapsody. This also showed up alongside Genesis’s Sync and Limit Break Over Flow. Yeah, that was one heck of an awesome draw. Too bad the same can’t be said for most of the ones that came after it.

I have this in my English account. The animations are the same, but I prefer the Japanese version just because it's voiced. I really love watching the animations of these Soul Breaks and hearing Genesis’s voice. How I wish the English version will include the voices too. Maybe someday in the future?

Flash Tech Soul Break+, Epic of Heroes

Flash Tech Soul Break+ are known as Glint+ in the English version of the game.

Astral Sword (VII-CC) is a 6-star rarity, Sword-type relic that gave me Genesis’s Flash Tech Soul Break+, Epic of Heroes. 

This is the weapon that cost me so much mythril because it refused to show up no matter how many times I pulled on the fire banner. It came to a point wherein I thought I would never see it. Thankfully, a miracle occurred, and it finally came home.

I’m really glad I got this. Now, I activate Epic of Heroes before casting Purgatorial Wave. It makes Genesis deal even more damage. Heck, yeah, I just love seeing all these high numbers and watching him destroy all of our opponents. 

Flash Tech Soul Break, Epic of Destruction

Evil Slayer (VII-CC) is a 5-star rarity, Sword-type relic that gave me Genesis’s Flash Tech Soul Break, Epic of Destruction. This isn’t available on the Chocobo banner. I got this by pulling on the Final Fantasy VII Luck of the Realms banner.

This is a special banner that you can only pull on once. It costs 5 mythril to get 3 relics, one of which is guaranteed to be of 5-star rarity or higher. There’s 1 banner for each of the different Final Fantasy series. 

The banners include the relics of all the characters from the realm you’re pulling on. So, for example, the Final Fantasy VII banner includes all of the Soul Breaks of all the FFVII chars. So the chances of getting exactly what you want is slim to none.

Which was why I was so surprised when I actually managed to obtain Genesis’s Epic of Destruction. I never would have thought one of his relics would actually show up. So freaking happy, of course, especially since this isn’t featured on any of the currently available banners.

Ultra Soul Break, Apocalypse Genesis

While Ultra Soul Breaks aren’t as good as Syncs or Awakenings, they’re still near the top of the tier list. IIRC, they’re ranked third. They’re great to have because they only cost 2 bars to use, and you can cast them as many times as you want as long as you have the gauges to do so. 

In contrast to that, both Syncs and Awakenings can only be activated once per battle though if you max rank Awakenings, they can be used a total of 2 times per fight.  

Genesis’s Guise (VII-DoC) is a 6-star rarity, Light Armor-type relic that gave me Genesis’s Ultra Soul Break (USB), Apocalypse Genesis. I got this from the Glory Festival 2020 Free Relic Draw.

See, the Glory Fest 2020 began a few days or so after I started playing this game. As part of the event, we’re given tickets as a login reward. You can use these tickets to pull on a special banner for free. You’ll get 10 items per draw, one of which is guaranteed to be of 6-star rarity or higher.   

The Glory Fest 2020 Free Relic Draw ticket number 3 was the one that gave me Genesis’s Ultra. I can’t believe this actually happened. I mean, seriously, I think this banner included every single relic in the game. What are the odds I’d actually get something that I want? 

What are the odds that I’d get something that belongs to my fave and that I didn’t have yet? Oh, wow, I really have no words for this. Needless to say, I’m so happy to see this relic even if I prefer the appearance of Genesis’s red leather coat from Crisis Core.

Legend Materia, Rhapsodic Recitation and Project G Creation

These Legend Materia are unique to Genesis and can be obtained by unlocking the corresponding nodes in his Legend Sphere.

Rhapsodic Recitation increases fire damage dealt by 10% whereas Project G Creation has the following effect:

“When low on HP, restore HP to the user and enter Black Flurry Mode, temporarily raising the user’s attack a moderate amount and giving fire abilities used by the user a high chance to trigger twice. Can only trigger once per battle.”    

I needed 5-star Motes in order to complete Genesis’s Legend Sphere. You can get these Motes as rewards in some quests, or you can buy them from certain shops in the game though they’re limited in stock. They can also be farmed though the battles where you can do so are really hard for new players. 

Which was why it took me quite a while before I could finally obtain enough of the Motes I needed to complete my fave’s Legend Sphere and get his Legend Materia. I can’t farm for the Motes yet, so I had to rely on acquiring them via other methods.

Genesis Rhapsodos Missing Relics

I’m missing the following relics for my fave:

Flash Tech Soul Break+, Epic of Creation

Genesis’s Blood Sword (VII-CC) is a 6-star rarity, Sword-type relic which contains Genesis’s Flash Tech Soul Break+, Epic of Creation. This is his first Flash+. 

Legend Materia Relic, Fierce Opposition

Red Glove (VII-CC) is a 5-star rarity, Bracer-type relic which contains Genesis’s Legend Materia Relic (LMR), Fierce Opposition. This gives him 20% more attack when he’s equipped with a sword.

Arcane Overstrike Soul Break, SOLDIER’s Epic

Arcane Overstrike Soul Breaks (AOSB) are pretty good, but they’re more of a finisher than anything else. They’re something you could choose to activate when the fight is ending, and you need a bit more damage and you just want to finish the battle in an epic way. 

A char won’t really be usable if all you have for them is their AOSB. This is because Arcane Overstrikes can only be used once per battle, and they cost a whopping 3 bars just to activate. They also don’t do anything else aside from dealing attacks that can break the damage cap.

Genesis’s Guise (VII-CC) is a 6-star rarity, Light Armor-type relic that contains Genesis’s Arcane Overstrike Soul Break (AOSB), SOLDIER’s Epic. I love, love, love the appearance of this red leather coat. The AOSB’s animation is pretty cool too since Angeal Hewley, Genesis’s best friend, shows up and the 2 of them attack the enemy together. 

Pull for Genesis Rhapsodos Missing Relics

If the aforementioned relics were featured in any of the currently available banners, then you can bet that I’ll definitely be pulling for them. Unfortunately, they aren’t, so all I can do now is wait for them to show up in a future banner or hope that they can be added to the The Record Lab where you can purchase relics with Anima Lenses.

Genesis Rhapsodos Magia Crystal Points

The moment you get a character to level 99, the highest level in this game, you unlock their Magia Crystals. These crystals allow you to further increase the stats of your characters.

For instance, you can get up to 10% fire attack and 100 physical attack. Aside from offensive stat increases, you can also raise defensive stats such as getting up to 10% ice resist and 500 HP.  

Every time you use a level 99 chara in battles, they get 1 magia exp. As you get more exp, you’ll be able to increase your magia level. Each level will give you 1 point, which you can use to increase your chosen stat.

It should come as no surprise that Genesis was the very first character that I leveled to 99. He’s never left my party ever since I recruited him, so much so that he’s also the only character I currently have with over 100 magia. 

Genesis Rhapsodos Equipment

Initially, I had Genesis equipped with his Rune Rapier. As soon as I acquired an Artifact Stone, I bought him the Flametongue Artifact. This is a Sword-type Artifact, which adds a small boost to fire damage.

Artifacts have much higher stats when compared to the weapons you get from pulling on banners. Rainbow Crystals are required to level them up. For a while, I didn’t have enough to level up Flametongue, but, just recently, I finally managed to get it to its max level of 50.

Genesis only has a few options when it comes to armor. He can equip either Hats, Light Armors, or Bracers. For a while, I only had low star armor that fit that criteria, so I had no choice but to use those. It didn’t help that the Chocobo banner hardly had any armor. 

A bit later on, I was able to get some armor from other banners. I was really pleased about that until I tried to equip them to Genesis and found out I couldn’t. Epic fail. Thankfully, I was soon able to get Barrel Coat (XII), the only Light Armor-type relic on the fire banner. Much later, I acquired Genesis’s Dirge of Cerberus armor so I readily switched out Barrel Coat for this one. I now have this armor at max level.

Accessories were pretty hard to come by as well, so, for a while, I also had no choice but to equip Genesis with low-rarity ones that barely increased any of his stats. After being able to level up more of my charas and acquiring more Soul Breaks, I was able to do a few of the Transcendent fights. These gave me a few decent accessories, including one that increased the Attack stat by 20. Of course, I readily gave that one to my fave.

Abilities

Since I was new to Final Fantasy Record Keeper, I was stuck having to use 1-star and 2-star abilities, which were all trash. I was glad when I finally had the materials needed to create skills that were of higher rarity. Naturally, I prioritized abilities that Genesis could use. However, I also made sure to create healing and support skills. 

The shop in the Fat Black Chocobo: A Blazing Forgery event also helped since it included a few fire-type abilities that were of 5-star rarity and honed to rank 3/5, which allowed them to be used 6 times instead of the default 2.  

So far, I have the following abilities:

Inferno Assault - 6-star rarity, Spellblade-type, rank 3/5, 6 uses, deal 5 physical fire attacks to one enemy, requires Inferno Assault Record aside from the usual materials to create, obtained the Record by completing the low-level quests in the Dreams Dungeons 

Blazing Quadstrike - 5-star rarity, Spellblade-type, rank 3/5, 6 uses, deals 4 physical fire attacks to one enemy, got this from the Chocobo shop 

Curada - 6-star rarity, White Magic-type, rank 2/5, 6 uses, restores large amount of HP to one ally and automatically heals additional damage taken, requires Curada Record aside from the usual materials to create, obtained the Record by completing the Curada Nightmare Dungeon 

Ultra Cure - 5-star rarity, White Magic-type, rank 1/5, 4 uses, restores large amount of HP to one ally and removes their debuffs

Hastega - 5-star rarity, White Magic-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, enables the party to move faster

Protectga - 4-star rarity, White Magic-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, doubles Defense of the party

Shellga - 4-star rarity, White Magic-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, doubles Resistance of the party

Lifesiphon - 4-star rarity, Combat-type, rank 3/5, 6 uses, deals physical non-elemental damage and charges the user’s Soul Break gauge a large amount

Full Break - 5-star rarity, Support-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, damage and lower the Attack, Magic, Defense, and Resistance of an enemy

Wrath - 4-star rarity, Support-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, charge the user’s Soul Break gauge and temporarily raise their Attack

Entrust - 5-star rarity, Support-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, transfer the user’s Soul Break gauge to an ally

Tremoring Quadstrike - 5-star rarity, Spellblade-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, deals 4 physical earth attacks to one enemy

Snowspell Strike - 6-star rarity, Spellblade-type, rank 1/5, 2 uses, deals ice and wind damage, obtained this via getting Genesis’s Snowspell Strike Record Sphere to level 2   

Iai Hellfire - 5-star rarity, Samurai-type, rank 3/5, 6 uses, deal 5 physical fire attacks to one enemy with a high critical chance, temporarily lower the user’s Defense and Resistance and raise the user’s Mind, bought from the Chocobo shop

Burning Snipe - 5-star rarity, Machinist-type, rank 3/5, 6 uses, deal 6 ranged physical fire attacks to one enemy, bought from the Chocobo shop  

Genesis Rhapsodos Record Materia

Each character gets a Record Materia (RM) after you level them up and break their level cap. Genesis has the following RM (the game doesn’t list the actual numbers, but I looked them up):

Rebel SOLDIER - 5% attack for each 10% missing HP

Gift of the Goddess - increases fire damage dealt by 20%

Twisted Creator - physical attacks deal 30% more damage when a sword is equipped

His Twisted Creator is good, and I usually have him equipped with that when I don’t need him to start a fight with his Soul Break gauge filled.

Genesis Rhapsodos Record Spheres

Record Spheres are yet another way to increase a character’s stats. You’ll need these things called Motes in order to unlock a character’s Record Spheres.

Playing through the Realm Dungeons in order to get more mythril so I could keep pulling on the fire banner gave me more than enough 3-star Motes to complete Genesis’s 3-star Record Spheres (Warrior, Red Mage, and Knight). The 4-star Motes were a bit harder to come by, but I soon had enough to also complete Genesis’s 4-star Record Spheres (Gladiator, Spellblade, and Dark Knight).  

Completing his Snowspell Strike Record Sphere was easy thanks to the Fat Black Chocobo: A Blazing Forgery event shop because it had all the Spellblade Motes I needed to finish said Sphere.   

Finishing both of Genesis’s 3-star and 4-star Record Spheres unlocked his Legend Sphere. This required 5-star Motes to complete. For someone new to the game, getting 5-star Motes was easier said than done. I would have gladly farmed quests to obtain these Motes, but since they were locked behind content that was still way too difficult for me to tackle at the moment, I had no choice but to be more patient about this. 

I did all the quests that I could complete that gave these Motes as rewards. There were also some login rewards that gave these Motes and some were being sold in a few of the game’s many different shops, so I readily took advantage of all these alternative sources for Motes. Soon, I finally had enough to complete Genesis’s Legend Sphere.

Doing so unlocked his Record Board. Yay for even more stats. Unfortunately, this is where I’m currently stuck because you need 6-star Motes in order to finish this Board. Getting 6-star Motes is even harder than getting the 5-star ones. 

The worst part is there’s no way to farm them, not like with the way you can repeatedly do certain quests to get 5-star Motes. So, yeah, this is definitely gonna take a while.

The Record Board includes what is known as a Hero Ability or Unique Ability. This is a skill that can only be equipped by the character they belong to. In order to get this ability, you need Anima Lenses+ as well as even more 6-star Motes. You can get the lenses by pulling on banners. You can also get them as rewards for completing certain dungeons.

Since I pulled so many times on the fire banner as well as a few other banners, I now have around 100+ lenses. IIRC, I’d need around 250 though so still a long way to go, especially since I have no plans to draw on any more banners unless there’s one that features my fave’s relics. Hopefully, I can complete Genesis’s Record Board and get his Hero Ability soon. Wish me luck, and see you in the next post.

Notes:

pics are from Amazon.com; links shown above

screenshots are from my Final Fantasy Record Keeper Japanese and English game accounts

[idealistsinc]

08 // clamor

wc: 1,224

The smog lie like a violet pall over Fogfens. Yesugen stormed from the gates and stood out on a knoll, shaking, till at last the blindness of rage passed from her eyes. Before her unfolded a landscape pockmarked with crystals, the earth a ruptured, harrowed field where only morbol seedlings could grow; beyond, the hulking carcass of the former Castrum Centri rippled like fire in the eerie-half light. A wasteland. Ironic how such a place could make her long for the inhospitable grit of Thanalan, the gentle burble of Nophica’s Well below the bridge as she hiked the road to Horizon, the texture of a stone floor in a Goblet armoury — those simpler days when she was just going to bring Oryokuln to Eorzea.

Somehow, that had been the easy part. What Yesugen hadn’t accounted for was what came next: the clamor. The outrage. The struggle of forging a life for a tribe out of shoestrings and pig iron.

“Cheye, you’ve changed a lot.”

She drew a measured breath, touching the raised scar at her throat — and then choked on Mor Dhona’s mephitic vapors.

“Cheyesugen?” said a voice.

Erdenechimeg Oryokuln shuffled out the gates of Revenant’s Toll. Though her hips never aligned quite right anymore, she had as regal a conduct as ever, her gray hair pulled tight from her face and her horns gleaming with the oils Isha’a had brought for her age-dried scales. Yesugen willed the pit of snakes in her stomach to settle.

“You shouldn’t be out here, Dene,” said Yesugen gently, dipping her head. “The ground isn’t even.”

“Pah. If a fall from standing on my own two feet does me in, it’s my time to go.” Dene squinted at her hard. Yesugen resisted the urge to shrink. “You shouldn’t be out, either. This weather’s not good for your throat.”

“I’m just...getting some air.”

“I can’t imagine why,” she said. “It’s not as though you and Arasen were howling at each other loud enough to bring the roof down or anything.”

Yesugen did shrink, then. “You heard that?”

“Who didn’t?”

Arasen had cornered her after her shift at The Seventh Heaven, aggressive, exhausted, pinning her against the building with hands that bled from the work of construction as he snarled, “Do you abandon your people so easily? You’ve already replaced your father — why not the rest of us?” She hadn’t been afraid of Arasen, then, though in retrospect perhaps she ought have been. Instead, staring into red-rimmed eyes, she had thought about what the blood had looked like when it pooled on a metal grate, and something in her had just gone, gone off somewhere else while her body stayed and screamed. To be honest, she didn’t remember any of what either of them had said — only that eventually he’d let her go and she had come out here, with the vaguest sense that if Khaizo saw her like this, the thing that’d lurked in the room with them since she cut her hair would all at once come out.

“I’m sorry,” said Yesugen. “I’ll handle him.”

“I think perhaps you are already handling enough,” said Erdenechimeg. 

Yesugen was khatun in name only now. But that didn’t absolve her of a certain responsibility to her tribe, regardless. She had ferried them away to this place, allowed them to offer their lives to hold in her hands, and abandoned them to their own devices in a foreign land longer than she should have; she would not make the same mistake twice. Much had to be done to soften their landing: Eorzean to teach, gil to earn, boots to craft for little boys who were already shooting up like weeds...and an angry ex-conscript to manage. A man she had failed to save before the Garleans stripped him of his tribe, his friends, and his very sense of self.

“I will handle him, Dene.”

Dene looked at her evenly. Yesugen lifted her chin, reaching for the natural authority her mother had always embodied so easily. “I’m sure you will,” she said, finally, in the way of a parent acquising to a stubborn child. “And in all that handling...will you ever have time for what you want to do?”

What I want? thought Yesugen, stunned.

In the Ghimlyt Dark, she had survived because of a vision of falling stars. Their light had blazed across her mind’s eye like a brand, and she had known, even before she knew the name of what had been done to her, that things could never be the same again. She had been chosen for a duty to her new homeland, to live and die in the service of something greater than herself — to be, as it were, the kind of person Eorzeans tended to call a Warrior of Light.

Except...

“I am — afraid.”

Say she could have what she wanted. Say she could go back to Ul’dah, could fly Alga across that tantalizing stretch of open blue sky — could race chocobos again, visit Percevains and Yannick and Rosalinde, hunt puk hatchlings for Walcher in the grasslands of Horizon’s Edge, kiss Isha’a under the fronds of those gnarled and tenacious trees and let Khaizo, Khaizo who followed her to war, be finally and at last at peace. 

How long would they have before all of Eorzea burned?

The nixes croaked in an unpleasant chorus somewhere from the bog.  “What I want doesn’t matter,” she said.

“Oh, none of that, Cheye. You have desires and dreams as much as anyone.” Dene steered her chin so that Yesugen was forced to look at her, her gnarled fingers belying a strength that befit a woman who had once been the Oryokuln’s finest huntress. Even in her softness was a kind of steel. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be your mother’s daughter.”

Yesugen could have laughed, if she didn’t feel so much like crying. “My mother? But she — she gave everything for Oryokuln.”

“Yes,” said Dene, “but she also defied it at every turn, didn’t she?” She paused meaningfully, her silence saying what all the words in the world could not. “Like you will, khatun.”

One year, at the height of summer on a peak of the Fanged Crescent the Oryokuln called the Stairs of Azim, Orbei had taken Yesugen to the summit and pointed over the gently rolling foothills where, in the blue distance, a ribbon of water shimmered. “The One River,” she had said, the wind high in her hair and the sun bleaching her hair gold. There was always something about her mother that made Yesugen think she was happiest in places like these, standing on the edge of a universe. “Never forget that there are people out there, Cheye. A whole world — but the world won’t wait for us.”

She never could have known her words would be prophetic. Her mother, who wed a Doman man and had a half-Raen daughter to the outcry of the tribe. Her mother, who died when the world came in and chewed them up in its teeth and so didn’t live to see her daughter bring Oryokuln into history’s eye. 

Perhaps it was a great thing Yesugen had accomplished. But as she suddenly started to weep, with a weary and dire sorrow, what Yesugen said was,

“I — I just wanted to go home.”

[ertrunkenerwassergeist]

Heart of Thunder - Chapter 2

It’s here people! Also a Link to AO3 like always!

Nyx and Cor talk about what happened like the responsible grown-ups they are. Nyx flails and Cor is way too stubborn for his own good. 

List of words: Galahkari = people of Galahd ahtri = spirit; umbrella term for everything from actual nature spirits to the presence of their ancestors kohna = swearword; along the lines of shit 

Nyx threw back his head and laughed. He laughed and laughed until he cried and the muscles in his stomach started to protest. Some of the onlookers still mingling around the General – Leonis – Cor – and him stopped and stared, but didn't dare to come any closer. Right the opposite. They seemed to be happy to stay where they were and loudly, with quite a few exaggerated movements, discuss what they had just witnessed.

Cor – and he really was Cor now was he? Not General, not Ser. But Cor. Nyx squashed the voice in his head whispering about how this could go south so damned fast it wasn't even funny. His fiancée – oh ahtrii, he had a fiancée now! - still hadn't moved since Nyx had touched their foreheads in a Galahdian greeting between close family members. That must have been a bit much.

He... probably shouldn't have done that.

Kohna.

They had been engaged for less than 15 minutes and already he had messed up.

Nyx barked another laugh at the utter ridiculousness of the situation and grinned at Cor, wide and free and possibly a touch hysteric.

He could practically hear the Elders complain about this already.

For but a moment he looked from Cor to his best friend. Libertus stood there, grinning from one ear to the other, and gave him a thumbs up when their eyes met. Nyx would have liked nothing more at this exact moment but to painfully murder him. Crowe stood half a step behind Libertus and flashed Nyx a smile that made him want to hide in a hole. Then she proceeded to size Cor up like he was a piece of meat. It was better not to think too hard about this, for the sake of his own sanity.

The warm hand coming to rest on his free forearm nearly startled him bad enough to hiss. It was Cor. His stormy eyes blazed with something Nyx could not name and made his stomach flutter. The older man leaned in the tiniest bit and just kept looking at him with a slight frown on his face. In a sudden bout of nervousness Nyx licked his lips and jerked his head towards the nearest door leading into the barracks.

Cor nodded, his frown getting a bit less intense, and let him go.

They walked in silence. It wasn't tense exactly, but charged with something Nyx really didn't want to think about right now. Thankfully the crowd let them through without incident. It made him so happy that his people weren't prone to sticking their noses in other peoples businesses, unlike most Lucians.

Their gossip rags were a thing of his nightmares. Not that he would ever admit that to anybody. Nyx opened the door towards a small break room he knew to be empty at this time of the day. There wasn't much in it. A small table with four chairs grouped around it and a tiny kitchenette with barely enough space for an electric kettle, an assortment of teas and a few cups.

He could really use a tea right about now. With practised motions he set about preparing two cups of bamohn root tea after getting a silent nod out of Cor. Nyx suppressed a sigh. This was going to be so difficult.

They waited another few minutes in utter silence until the tea was finished. It didn't help Nyx' nerves at all. Barely there tremors shook his hands as he waited for the tea to be ready. In an attempt to calm himself the fuck down – he was the man who could kill a behemoth in one hit; he shouldn't need to calm down when he was about to have a talk with somebody, damn it – he stroked the soft fur of the coeurl's skin he still wore wrapped around him.

It was utterly beautiful. Judging from the form and width of the two long conducting whiskers this one had been a fully grown male that had probably lived somewhere near the Taelpar Crag. There and around the meteor plants and animals tended to grow... strangely or not at all. This coeurl had been nearly as big as his Galahdian cousins, but still lacked their horns.

Cor was watching him, lounging in his metal chair like a confident predator waiting for his prey.

Both of them stared at each other over their steaming cups, the smell bringing a certain comfort and a stab of painful longing to Nyx. It reminded him of a home that was long gone. He sighed.

“It just had to be a coeurl's skin,” Nyx started, more to himself, with a weak smile that was gone as fast as it had appeared.

“Coeurls and Ulrics belong together. That much I learned over the years. What I don't know is what it means,” said Cor, his hands wrapped around the garishly yellow chocobo cup in front of him.

Nyx tried to keep the pleasant surprise off his face, but he knew he had failed at that endeavour with the way the other man looked at him.

“I have worked with you – you call yourselves Galahkari, right? I have worked with the Galahkari for over a decade now; since before Galahd proper fell. During that time I was able to pick up a few things.”

“What kind of things?” Nyx couldn't help but ask. This... actually bode pretty well.

For them.

Potentially.

Better not get ahead of himself there.

“I know the colours of every clan within the Kingsglaive as well as any potential feud between them. My apologies for not always managing to keep them separated. What I managed to pick of your language is mostly limited to curse words. Other than that your people are hard to pin down. I do not give much stock in the things 'most people know'. To me, they have been mostly proven false.”

“That's... quite a lot.” For a Lucian, he didn't say, but by the way the General tilted his head in an acknowledging nod, he had heard it anyway.

A short silence followed, in which Nyx busied himself with sipping at his tea. He tried his best at gathering his thoughts. No matter how he would explain this, it was bound to get messy. He swallowed his dread and looked the other man square in the eyes.

“What you did,” Nyx started and motioned with a hand in the free space between them, “is a commitment for life on both our parts. It's ancient and sacred; it has been done this way since the first of my ancestors settled on Galahd.” He stopped, not quite sure how to continue.

“And what did I commit us both to?” asked Cor, his face utterly serious.

Nyx' first instinct was to grin and say something along the lines of 'nothing too bad', but... well. So he took a deep breath and took the plunge.

“We're engaged.”

It took great effort not to wince.

“Engaged,” repeated Cor, his voice flat and without any inflexion whatsoever.

Nyx nodded. “Yes.”

“...How?”, asked Cor after a few heartbeats of tense silence.

With a mirthless grin Nyx stroked the silver and grey fur over his shoulders. Stormy eyes tracked every little movement his fingers made.

“It just had to be a coeurl's skin,” he repeated his earlier words. “Anything else – anything at all – and I could've declined without losing face or angering my ancestors and the spirits. But with this? Declining now means we're inviting a worse fate than death. It means curses, and those are not to be trifled with. You just hit all the right marks to make it impossible to say no. A coeurl's fur given to me – an Ulric – in front of a full hunting party and those closest to me in the absence of clan members and blood family.”

He knew he was starting to ramble, but right now he didn't care. He just needed to make the other man understand that he hadn't had any other choice but to accept. That would just have invited tragedy. There were stories from the early days of his clan, where members had declined such an Offering of Intention, and none of them ended well.

“So you made this decision for both of us because you fear being cursed by ghosts,” stated Cor. Through the cracks of his iron composure Nyx could finally see the disbelieve and fury he had expected from the moment they had stepped into this room.

Nyx wanted to wince, stand up and go somewhere where he could throw himself off a cliff or something, but he didn't. Because that would be denying himself the chance to... he didn't know what, but he wouldn't let it slip his grasp. So instead, he bared his teeth in an aggressive snarl. How could he make this man understand?

For the first time the older man broke eye contact and shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts.

“My apologies,” he murmured in a low voice that sent shivers down Nyx' spine, and inclined his head. “If somebody should know that spirits and ghosts are more powerful than most people think, it is me.”

Taking a deep breath, Nyx tugged at his clan-braid and tried to calm down. It was okay, they were not going to kill each other, everything was fine.

“It's alright,” he said. It wasn't Cor's fault that he was a straahnos – an unknowing outsider.

Nyx felt the other's gaze weight heavily upon him. It clearly communicated how convinced he was of that statement: that was to say, not at all. Okay, so maybe it wasn't alright, but Nyx was hardly going to admit that now. There were more important things to focus on right now than his religious believes, or why Cor Leonis of all people had insight into spirits and curses.

“Explain this to me. From the beginning.”

It sounded more like an order than a request, but sill, Nyx couldn't help but feel grateful about having a chance to explain all of this. Again he tugged at his braid. His mother and sister would have berated him for that habit. He started to talk before his thoughts could linger on them.

“You said you already know that coeurls and my clan are connected in some way. There are stories about how Ulrics are reincarnated coeurls, another says that in the early days we were blessed by the Queen of the Jungle and then there is one about a coeurl that took on a human form to marry a member of my clan.

In Galahkari culture, when we are interested in marrying someone, we present that person with a hunting trophy. It can be anything from any animal – bones, teeth, fur, feathers, even the meat or blood – as long as we hunted it ourselves and without help. The more difficult the better and the chances of the suit being accepted are also higher the closer the animal is tied to the clan in question.”

Nyx took a sip from his now lukewarm tea. His nervousness had largely left him. Cor sat in his chair across from him, straight backed and attentive, listening carefully to every word he said. That was... good.

“When you presented me with a coeurl's skin you acknowledged their ties to my clan, and that you didn't hunt it down but killed the poachers who did it, and did that alone, shows that you respect the sanctity coeurl's have among my people. You did everything right without even knowing what you were doing! You even presented me with it in front of the all the right witnesses.”

Cor had no idea how ridiculous that was. It was almost as if... oh please no. No. If his ancestors truly had decided to meddle, he was getting Libertus to find the nearest snake so that he could have a talk with them. Meddlesome old coots, the whole lot of them.

“I couldn't say no!”

He looked at the General with carefully guarded eyes. Maybe they could make this work. Nyx could only hope. And, oh, did he hope in the deepest parts of his very being. Greyish blue eyes bore into his own, their intensity nearly stealing his breath away. They sat there for a long time, both deep within their own thoughts, their gazes tangled into each other. Neither seemed able to look away.

“What does it entail?”

The sudden question startled Nyx into blinking and breaking eye contact. “What?”

“Being engaged,” said Cor with an unimpressed look.

Nyx did his best to fight down the heat threatening to rise in his cheeks out of embarrassment. “I will give you something in return as physical proof that I accept your proposal. Everything else is decided between the couple until the wedding. That's a whole other thing we'll have to talk about later.”

Cor frowned but didn't comment. Nyx really didn't want to talk marriage customs yet, or tell the other that he normally would have put a braid in his hair as an answering claim. Ahtrii, he needed a drink.

“I'm not a Galahdi- a Galahkari,” Cor said at last.

“Galahkar,” Nyx corrected absent-mindedly. “Galahkari is the plural. But it doesn't matter if you are or aren't. What matters, is that you observed traditions and proved yourself worthy that way.”

Cor nodded to show that he understood and cast him a look Nyx couldn't discern. “This will not go over well with the royal court. His Majesty will just be happy that I'm 'finally settling down' and Clarus will say his piece, but he won't do anything. Can I trust your people to not raise a stink about this, Ulric?”

“Call me Nyx. Everything else would be strange,” he muttered, utterly relieved that he wasn't making it harder for them than it already was. He wondered amusedly, if the King had tried to get himself involved in the other's love life before. It certainly sounded like it.

Cor nodded. “Nyx, then. Call me Cor.”

The younger man nodded, barely able to hide his relief. He would have called Cor by his first name anyway, but it was nice to have permission to do so.

“You saw how they reacted when you gave me the pelt. You took it from poachers and gave it to me. Not even the traditionalists will say anything against that.”

“I sense a story there.”

“There is,” nodded Nyx. “You'll most likely hear it very soon.”

Humming in acceptance, Co looked like he wanted to ask about that, but he didn't. Instead he raked his eyes over Nyx' form until they came to rest on the silver on grey fur. “I'll see that the other four pelts will also be brought to you,” he said.

Nyx really had to fight down a blush at that comment. That man had no idea what he was doing, but he was doing it right anyway. He had nearly forgotten about the other four pelts. Another adult and three kits. He wondered if it could be considered an omen and promptly wanted to bury his head in his hands. Hopefully he hadn't jinxed it. With his luck, he probably had.

“Thank you,” he murmured and had to force himself to keep looking at the other man.

Was that a hint of a smile playing at the corner of his lips? Inwardly, Nyx floundered at the sight. This was... nope, not going there now. Right now he was having a serious talk – with a man that was flirting with him like no tomorrow; four more pelts, four – and needed to concentrate. He probably didn't even know he was doing it, Nyx admonished himself.

The sudden ringing of a phone made him twitch. Cor scowled and pulled a phone out of the inner pocket of his black jacket. His gaze grew even darker when he saw the ID.

“Leonis speaking,” he practically barked into the speaker, and just like that he transformed into the cold and stern General he had known for years now.

It was such a stark contrast to the man he had been talking to just a few seconds ago that it made Nyx realize just how open the General had been with him. And expressive, he thought as he looked at the now completely closed off face. The man kept listening for a few moments before he hung up with a terse “I'll be there.”

He looked back at Nyx and his expression cleared again. Nyx opened his mouth to say something before closing it again, and swallowed.

“I'm sorry to have this cut short, but I'm needed.”

Cor said the last part in a way that made Nyx really not want to know what was going on. He swallowed the questions burning on his tongue anyway, down and nodded.

“Of course,” he said and stood up along with Cor.

“I'll see you tomorrow,” the older man said, pleasantly surprising Nyx.

“Tomorrow?” he couldn't help but ask, just to make sure.

“As you said, we cannot get out of this, and I refuse to marry a man I barely know.”

Nyx barked a surprised laugh, he didn't manage to keep down behind his teeth. Then a thought occurred to him and he felt stupid for not having thought to ask before: “Are you okay with this? Marrying me, I mean.”

“If you're asking, if I prefer the company of men, then the answer is no, but I'm not averse to it either. And you're not exactly hard on the eyes.”

Beneath Cor's heated gaze Nyx couldn't help the wide smile growing on his lips. “You're not bad looking, either,” he said and made an aborted move forward.

When he had done this earlier, the older man had clearly been overwhelmed with no idea what to do, so Nyx held himself back. However, Cor cast him a look that settled somewhere between curious and expectant as he stood by the door, one hand on the handle, but not leaving quite yet.

With silent steps Nyx drew near until they stood right in front of each other again. He saw understanding flash in Cor's stormy eyes as he leaned in, careful to telegraph his movements this time. They met in the middle, foreheads gently touching for maybe two seconds, before they drew back again. All the while they never lost eye contact.

“It's something that's only done between close family members,” said Nyx in way of an explanation at the other's questioning look.

Cor nodded and then he was out of the door without another word. When Nyx was sure that he was gone, he slumped back down into his chair and laid his head into his arms. The day was barely halfway over and he was already tired enough he could sleep for the rest of the day. His stomach fluttered pleasantly as he thought of tomorrow.

That was how Libertus found him not much later.

[secret-engima]

Snippet of Deleantur

(Was working on my other FFXV time-travel when this bunny bit me so here we go, a preview of the one-shot that I can already feel spiraling into the 10k+ length without my consent)

     The world would forever remember the night of the Wave. The night when the Crystal, the symbol of the Astral’s blessing upon House Caelum and the source of their power, erupted into light and power so great it stretched to the horizons and beyond. The night when the full moon was outshone by the earth itself as magic blazed from the earth to the heavens, set the sky on fire and shook the world with the echo of a voice no one could quite understand —a voice that said No. Not this way. Not this time.—.

     Lying in their beds, two brothers woke up screaming as the magic in their veins boiled over under the touch of the Wave as it passed over them. Their minds burned with visions of things that did not exist and had never happened even as the Oracle in her prayers collapsed in tears and every soul on the planet woke up with a feeling of fear and relief both.

     For eighteen year old Somnus, the world turned dark with jealousy and red with blood. A throne sat cold beneath his skin and a crown heavy as a mountain on his head while deep voice called him fool and showed him the price of his greed —his line would never know true peace, his brother would suffer for ages and his line would end where it began: a familial sword through the heart—. For Somnus, the world became a grey landscape of duty and desperate regret, an endless attempt at apology that would never be heard by its recipient and that fell from his lips with his very last breath.

     For twenty-one year old Ardyn, the world stretched on for a black eternity. His love died in his arms and the world burned around him and his voice laughed with glee as the night turned black and no one seemed to notice his desperate screams —no one could hear them over the laughter of the Thing living in his skin—. Reality broke into meaningless fragments and by the time it had reformed there was nothing left but regret for his continued existence and hate for the man who wore his brother’s face even though that man had done nothing wrong.

     Somnus died old and beloved, with many children and grandchildren. Somnus died with tears of shame sliding down his face for all he had betrayed and all that he had sentenced his family to.

     Ardyn died ancient and hated, with no line to call his own and only the tiniest fragments of humanity left in his soul to cry out in grief as he ended the last of his own family. Ardyn died with a snarl on his face and a sob of relief in what remained of his heart because finally, finally, he could rest.

     The Wave passed on, tearing the knowledge out of their minds before it could break them. It rolled heedlessly across the sky, leaving them with only desperate impressions and echoes that drove them from their chambers and into each other’s arms where Somnus apologized past his tears for betrayals he did not remember —had never done— and Ardyn shook from relief at his release from a soul-deep agony he could not recall —had never suffered—. The rift that had been growing between them as Somnus sided with their father —who spoke of purging the growing plague in the lands by force— and Ardyn —who resisted with pleas for mercy and medicine— burned away under the anguished feeling that they had both lost each other —lost everything— and only just now found each other again.

     The castle roiled with chaos as guards staggered under the pressure of the magic rushing by and every animal in the grounds and stables and kennels screamed with something they could sense but the humans had already forgotten.

     By the time anyone rushed into the throne room to actually look upon the Crystal, the Wave was over and done, and the lone figure that had shimmered into existence on the throne had already staggered to his feet and fled into the dark of night. Past the panicking guards, past the screaming animals, out into the wilderness where no one could ask questions.

     By the time anyone rushed into the throne room, all that was left was a passive Crystal and a throne drenched in blood, its back torn open at chest height like someone had driven a sword into it and then ripped it messily free.

     No one understood why Ardyn took one look at the bloodied throne in the morning and fell to his knees sobbing like he was bearing witness to the end of the world, startling his father out of his angry theories about thieves receiving their just punishment for touching the Crystal with immoral hands. No one could explain why Ardyn pressed his forehead into the bottom step leading to the throne and whispered “thank you” over and over past his tears. Not even him.

     No one could explain why Somnus for once ignored his father’s bluster about nobility staying dignified and knelt beside his brother, a hand on the elder’s back, tears trickling silently down his face as he mouthed “I’m sorry” to the bloody throne.

     It took weeks to piece together the true ramifications of the Wave. It took months to confirm those ramifications.

     The Starscourge was gone. The plague that had been warping people and animals into monsters had vanished without a trace. The ill who had been quarantined, covered in purple-black lines and lost to the torments of their mind, were now clear-skinned and sane —if confused, having lost all memory of the time they were sick—. The animals that had wandered the wilderness, spreading their sickness with their dripping fangs and limping about as if in great pain were either gone or seen trotting about in the distance, fur healthy and aggression settled to the levels of any of their respective kind. In every kingdom, every city, town, or village, every class from beggars to nobles, the Starscourge was nowhere to be found.

     The Oracle consulted with the Astrals in search of answers about the miracle, but no answer was forthcoming. The Astrals were strangely silent, and their messengers did not come when called. They had nothing to say about the Crystal’s inexplicable surge of magic, or the bloody throne that sat beneath it, the stains refusing to come out no matter how the servants washed and scrubbed and repaired fabric or stone steps.

     It was around that time that the other rumors reached their ears. Rumors of a stranger wandering the land, hunting monsters, protecting innocents, healing the sick…

     Wielding magic.

     Only two houses in the world could wield magic. That of the Lucis Caelums, blessed with a connection to the Crystal, and that of the Oracles, blessed with the ability to speak to the Astrals. For some unnamed stranger to appear from nowhere wielding magic, mere months after the Wave and its bloody throne… It was suspicious at best.

     Their father assigned both Somnus and Ardyn to hunt down the stranger and see if he was the source of the Wave, or if he was just a pretender using sleight of hand to make people believe he was magical. If he was neither of those, but some kind of illegitimate half-blood, they were to bring the stranger back into the fold. By force, if necessary —there were to be no loose lineages, no wayward drops of magic escaped their family control—.

     The two brothers, practically inseparable in the aftermath of the Wave, set off by themselves into the wilderness. They left their father’s soldiers and Somnus’s Shield, Gilgamesh, behind to watch over the Crystal. Working together, the two brothers were easily a match for some random stranger who might not even have magic. A few days after they started, Aera trotted up on her finest black chocobo. If there was a chance that this mystery person could shed light upon the Wave and the sudden silence of the Astrals, then as Bahamut’s chosen Oracle, she had a duty to question him.

     Despite Somnus’s teasing groans about never having a moment’s peace from Ardyn’s and Aera’s affections for each other should she come along, both brothers welcomed her on their journey. They were as curious as she was to learn if the stranger was truly involved with the Wave after all.

     They abandoned their fancy robes in favor of simpler, more travel-hardy wear within a week. Their royal clothing attracted too much of the wrong attention, and they would never get anywhere if they had to fend off bandits what felt like every fifteen minutes. They couldn’t hide their noble bearing of course, none of them knew how to act like peasants to save their lives, but dressing simply made bandits less likely to pay attention to them on the road and made the common folk speak more freely in the taverns and villages.

     Out here it was easier to get more details on the stranger, though all the details were fuzzy and steeped in a level of awe Ardyn and Somnus thought unhealthy.

     The stranger gave no name, no matter who asked or how many he saved. In fact, most rumors did not even recount him speaking —save for the rumors that he shook the skies with the words of the Astrals and could call down Bahamut’s blades at will, but those were nonsense—. Since the man had no name, the common folk had given the wanderer one. Deleantur. Very roughly, it meant the Erased in the old languages. That or Destroyer, and that name did not fill them with much confidence over procuring a friendly meeting. No one could explain why they called him Deleantur, only that it made sense when one looked upon him.

     No one could tell them where Deleantur was going next either, and so they trailed him from village to village, always just a few days too late to catch up with the mysterious figure who left dead monsters and stories of miracles in his wake —revived a child torn open by monster claws with a tuft of feather, healed a man’s ruined arm by shattering a tiny glass bottle on it, cured a woman turned to stone with flash of magic—. All impossible tales, all sworn to by those they asked.

     Then one day they finally arrived in a village where the people helpfully told them that Deleantur had just left less than an hour ago on chocobo back, if they hurried, they might still catch him before nightfall. They pushed their chocobos to near exhaustion, but found nothing more than dust and waving grasslands. Frustrated, they made camp for the night on a tall, flat rock, Aera carefully warding it with signs of blessing and safety just as she had all their other camps before.

     Ardyn had the middle watch just in case —blessings did not stop bandits after all, only wild animals—, and despite being certain that he was awake every moment of his watch, sword balanced on his shoulder as he sat with his back to the fire, he still didn’t sense the stranger until the man kicked a tiny pebble on the rock’s surface.

     Ardyn spun in alarm, sword in hand at the sound, raised his blade defensively at the sight of the stranger mere steps away from his sleeping brother and lover, “Who goes?”

     His shout jerked Somnus and Aera from their sleep. Aera sat up sluggishly, unused to reacting to danger in the night —no one would dare touch an Oracle, and even before that the Mirus Fleuret line had possessed the fewest political enemies—. Somnus, on the other hand, was very used to assassination or kidnapping attempts happening in his sleep and tumbled out of his bedroll in a moment, sliding to his feet with a sword in hand like he’d been awake the entire time.

     Both Ardyn and Somnus pointed their blades at the stranger, but hesitated to attack. The cloaked figure just watched them from beneath his hood, hands hidden beneath the tattered fabric. In the flickering firelight, Ardyn thought the man’s eyes gleamed eerie blue, but he couldn’t be certain. Somnus stepped closer, blue eyes snapping and blade far more ready to swing than Ardyn’s, “Who are you to come into our camp unannounced? Speak, vagrant! What is your purpose here?”

     Aera had stumbled to her feet at that point, her trident clutched in sleep-shaky hands, and Ardyn shifted around behind his brother to reach his lover’s side and pull her to safety behind them. Through it all, the stranger didn’t move, just watched them.

     Ardyn could almost see his little brother’s impatient twitch, barely resisted the urge to scold Somnus when the younger man gestured his sword at the stranger in threat, “Well? Answer me!”

     Ardyn, uneasy at the continued, eerie silence, lowered his sword tip to the ground and tried to placate both his brother and the unmoving figure in their midst, “You startled us. Did you come to share our fire? It is cold tonight. We won’t take offense so long as you mean no harm.” Still nothing. He might as well have been talking to a breathing rock. Off to the side, their chocobos began to wake up, giving out soft “kwehs” of confusion —he really hoped the stranger didn’t scare them off, the next village was almost a week away on foot—.

     Somnus opened his mouth, but Ardyn gently laid a hand on his brother’s wrist in a request for silence. More shouting was clearly not going to work, and someone losing their temper was the last thing they needed. Ardyn then pressed his hand to his chest, “I am Ardyn. This is my brother Somnus, and my … my friend, Aera. Do you have a name we might call you by?” A thought occurred to him and he added, as gently as he could, “Can you speak? I know the tongue of hands if that is what you prefer.” He added a few greeting gestures just to prove his point —and in case the stranger was deaf—.

     Finally, the stranger reacted. His feet slid a half step away from them, and his head ducked down as if finally aware that he’d been eerily staring. Heedless —or just not afraid— of the sword Somnus still had pointed at his neck, the stranger looked away from them and into the darkness for several seconds before looking back and finally, finally, speaking.

     “Why are you … following me.” Ardyn jolted at just how quiet the voice was. So raspy from disuse that the question was robbed of even its tone. Just flat words that had the strangest accent smudging them. It wasn’t a seaport accent, or a peasant’s drawl, or anything from the neighboring kingdoms. Not even the northern dignitaries that Ardyn had met once matched the accent of this rusty voice.

     Then the words settled in his head and he exchanged a wide-eyed look with Somnus and Aera, “You are Deleantur?” Somnus blurted, his sword dipped downward a fraction before rising again.

     The stranger made a funny little gesture with his shoulders that Ardyn couldn’t interpret, “…That’s what … some of the people call me.”

[chrysalispen]

#FFXIVWrite2019 - 1. Voracious

let’s see how this goes

No spoilers, just some fun WoL fluffy kidfic <3

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

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1. voracious

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The fat sausage links fair gleamed in their casings under the noonday sun.

From his hiding place behind the stack of crates, Sev felt his mouth water. The boy licked his lips, tail lashing against his dirty legs. He imagined the meat, juicy and flavored with all sorts of spices and just ever so slightly smoky, maybe with a piece of fresh baked bread. At the thought of a proper meal, the tip of his tongue slid over his new sharp canines that he still wasn't quite used to just yet. He'd only lost the last of his milk teeth two years ago.

Two years, he thought, surprised. Two years since Mum left.

At least, he was fairly sure that had been two years ago. Sev didn't have the best grasp on time. Like many of Ala Mhigo's smallfolk, the young Miqo'te largely knew the passing of the year by the turn of the cold months. But that sounded right. He'd dropped the first tooth not long before the old king had died, and not long after that the Northmen had come in their strange flying metal machines and impenetrable black armor. 

The Garleans, as they called themselves, had put the king's council to the sword and sacked the city, and two years later they had the full run of the place. Not that it had especially changed his circumstances.

His thoughts turned away from his newly sharp teeth and back to the meat they wished to tear, as though his hunger had a mind of its own. The old man wasn't looking in his direction at all! He was helping a woman with her purchase, a heavyset lady in fine linens and new leather that probably cost as much as the whole butcher's stand.

Sev felt a surge of hope. If he was careful he could have what he wanted and no one would be the wiser. His prey was one of several draped over a piece of metal that had been hammered into the wooden pole. One good jostle would cause it to fall.

Why, I could just knock that old link right off its hook. 

He'd never have a better chance. Maybe if he just leaned forward as if he were trying to look at the wares...

"Hey!" the lady shouted in alarm. She'd chanced to look up just in time for the boy to lean in from the crates, his hand wrapped around one of the links. "Thief! Thief!"

Sev leapt back with a startled cry, nearly crashing into the crates he'd been hiding behind, and took off running with his prize clutched in one fist and the old man screaming for help at his back.

===========

Two bells later he had to admit to himself that he was hopelessly lost.

Once upon a time, he'd known the way back home by heart. When Sev was little, he always knew when it was getting time to pay the rent on their apartment. Rent week was when the larder was empty and Mum started taking her visitors. She'd hang a length of red cloth outside her door, usually the threadbare handkerchief she kept in the drawer of her ancient desk (which sat under the only window in the whole apartment), and tell him to go amuse himself outside with his friends. When she was done, the cloth would be gone and he'd go back inside and she'd be there waiting to send him to the marketplace and refill their larder.

My Seven, my last and best boy, she'd praise him. Such a good son. Then she'd hug him, her body damp through her homespun, as she pressed a small pouch of gil into his little fingers. Whatever Mum and her visitors talked about, she always bathed before she took her red handkerchief down from the door, and it was that he remembered, his nose full of the stringent smell of lye, and of the scents she liked to use in her bathwater.

Over the next year the red handkerchief had stayed up for longer periods, days at a time, even a sennight sometimes. At first Sev had gone hungry, more than willing to wait for Mum to finish her long visits. But finally he'd given in to his hunger, and sometimes the cloth would be removed from the door and sometimes it would not, and he'd had to dig out his own bolt-holes for sleep, or offer to share his food with one of the other kids in exchange, or. Something.

Then finally one day he'd come home and the red cloth had been gone and so had his Mum. None of their neighbors knew what had happened to her, whether or not the imperials had taken her away or where she'd gone or if she'd ever be back, and none of them particularly seemed to care. One woman had scowled at him and said 'good riddance to that harlot' and closed the door in his face, and Sev had been alone for good.

That first night, he'd curled up on the empty doorstep and cried himself to sleep waiting for her. Eventually he'd forced himself to let those memories fade and grow sepia-toned. He never did return to that little apartment in its old and unfashionable district, a mere stone's throw from the slums where he now scraped out a living. There, the streets crisscrossed and meandered in strange ways into ancient taverns and alcoves so deeply hidden they never saw the blazing sun even in the heat of the day.

But this wasn't the so-called 'Ala Mhigan District' either. All he saw on either side were enormous mansions and iron gates and improbably green lawns.

So, it didn't take Sev very long to realize he was lost.

This place was like an entire world apart from the rest of the city. He stood before a big stone fountain with fresh running water that gurgled prettily out of the top, splashing into a pool with little red flowers floating in it. It was surrounded by carefully groomed bushes and even a stone bench to sit and rest or just take in the scenery. The streets beneath his worn shoes were neatly laid brick lined with black steel, mostly new, free of potholes or chocobo guano, and lined with new trees.

People lived here, he marveled. In the days of the old king, the royals had all lived here. But they were vanished or dead or both and now the only occupants of these fine houses were wealthy merchants and imperial army officers. There'd be no one of his like within walls so grand, unless they were working the grounds as ser-

The loud, thumping rattle of multiple footsteps marching in tandem brought him out of his awed reverie. Sev froze on the spot, his ears laid flat and twitching. He knew that sound well enough: an imperial patrol. They were heaviest in the poor areas, but it seemed even the idle rich saw their share of Garlean steel.

And the patrol was coming this way; he'd be arrested for sure the minute they saw him, thrown in their gaol and left to rot if he was lucky. He knew exactly how he looked: a scruffy, dirty street child, cheeks flushed and golden eyes wild, tearing down the streets of the Palace (no, he self-corrected, that's not right, they call it something else now) District with obviously stolen food clutched in one fist. There was exactly zero chance they would not know immediately what he'd done.

He would have run if he knew where to go, but he didn't even know how he'd got here in the first place. The more he thought about it, the more scared he became.

"You! Boy!"

That voice belonged to a child. His head swiveled from side to side, seeking its owner and finding... no one in sight? Who was talking to him then? Was he imagining things? Was it a ghost? The old folk said the Mad King had killed lots of people, even his own kin; mayhap the streets here were haunted? What if-

He let out a sharp yelp as something hard popped him in the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"Pick that up and get over here! They're coming!" 

He bent over to pick up whatever had been thrown at him and saw that it was some kind of red and green fruit that looked a bit like a pear. Then he saw the small hand waving at him. It dangled down from the branches of a low hanging old-growth tree that stood just behind a thick stone wall near one of the wrought iron gates. 

"Give me your hand, I'll pull you up!"

The voice was young and rather imperious, as if its owner were accustomed to giving orders and having them followed. Still, Sev dashed across the street and extended his hand, and immediately found himself pulled up, bodily, albeit slowly-- there was a small, pained grunt of exertion as they tried to lift him. He forced himself to stop flailing, bracing his feet against the trunk to assist. His shoes, worn down to tattered flaps, scrabbled at the bark for purchase and his tail lashed furiously, trying to help him keep his balance--but it only took a moment for his natural climbing instincts to assume control.

Once he decided he wasn't going to just drop right back to the cobbled street on his arse in front of an imperial patrol, Sev let go of that sweaty little hand, crept towards the trunk, then carefully balanced his weight across the branches beneath his feet like rough and very uneven stair steps.

"This way," the voice ordered, this time a whisper. "Don't make any noise."

He followed the child down through the tree branches, watching his steps carefully and trying to keep quiet and safeguard the only meal he'd probably get for the next handful of suns. Finally they were clear of the tree and crawling down the trunk to land in soft, manicured grass.

"There, boy. You're safe here," that small, oddly accented voice said, with a supreme confidence he wished he felt. "It'll be another half-bell before they report in. As long as you're gone before their shift change, you won't get caught."

Sev sat down with a small exhalation, cradling his ill-gotten gains (which were by now somewhat the worse for wear), and looked up to see the face of his rescuer. A very small Garlean stared back. Her hair was the color of honey, the sidelocks neatly braided, and her eyes were a very deep blue. She wore a fine pinafore dress beneath an apron currently covered in dirt and grass stains.

She also seemed to have noticed his confusion: that pale brow had knitted in a faint and curious frown, the wrinkle of it pausing just beneath the lower curve of her third eye.

"Boy?" she repeated. "Is aught amiss? Are you hurt?"

"I... n-no. I'm... I'm fine. I just..."

His stomach chose that moment to gurgle again, loud enough for both of them to hear.

"If you're hungry, then eat something."

"But these are raw."

"Ew, not those." She plucked the fruit he'd still had in one hand. "Here, you can have this. It's a mango. From Thavnair. They're good."

He just stared at her. She stared right back, carelessly tossing the fruit (mango?) from one hand to the other, those impossibly dark blue eyes tracking over his face. Then she extended her hand.

"I'm Aurelia," she said. "What's your name?"

"I.. um. Sev."

"That's short for something? Some Ala Mhigan name?"

"Uh, no." Sev stared down at the sausages in their casings, feeling small and foolish. "It's, uh. It's short for 'Seven'."

"Seven," the Garlean said, and her voice was flat and matter-of-fact in a way that clearly indicated she thought he was joking. "Right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That's a really weird name," she said bluntly.

"It's not a weird name!" Sev snapped, stung by her dismissal. "Aurelia is a weird name. What does it even mean?"

"At least my name is an actual name!" She scowled fiercely at him and stamped her little leather boot-clad foot against the grass, lower lip thrust out. "Who names their kid a number? That's just lazy!"

"My mum's not lazy, your mum's lazy!"

"My mama can't be lazy! She's dead!"

For a moment the two children glared at each other, Sev's tail thumping viciously against the grass. 

Aurelia's eyes looked a little too bright, and he almost asked her if she was going to cry before he felt the lump in his own throat and the prickling heat at his eyes, at the unbidden memory of lye soap and cardamom, and realized with horror that if anyone was going to cry, it was him.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things about your mum. Thank you for hiding me from the ironhe-... uh, the soldiers."

She shrugged, as if the entire argument meant nothing to her.

"Are you going to carry that thing around all day?"

"It's not a thing, it's food. It's sausage."

The Garlean girl's delicate little nose wrinkled in distaste. "Whatever it is, it smells gross. I bet it's been out in the sun too long."

"It's not gross."

"It is too. If you eat spoiled meat you'll get a sour belly." She thrust a hand towards him. "Give it over. I'm throwing it in the bin."

"But I'm hungry," Sev whined. It earned him a huffed exhalation and a very dramatic roll of her eyes.

"Ugh, just-- just follow me, you big baby. I'll get you all the sausages you'll ever want."

=========

Thus did a boy named Seven meet a girl named Aurelia, and a hapless cook became utterly convinced that her kitchen was haunted by the vengeful ghost of Mad King Theodoric. Aurelia supposed they might have overdone things a little with the wailing and the creaking door-hinges.

The paring knife and half-dozen mangoes missing from the larder were more difficult to explain when Aurelia helped herself to a perfectly sizeable dinner that night, however. Her governess was perfectly well aware that she loved mangoes, was not herself Ala Mhigan, and therefore had no cause to believe in angry ghosts nicking sausages from the cold pantry. No matter how much Cook insisted otherwise.

But at least now, she had her first real friend ever. And that was worth a few stolen sausages and a night confined to her chambers without dessert.

[chocoblep]

Entry #19: Another Time

It was one of those nights where it might have been dark had the moon not been full. Instead, a serene silver light bathed Coerthas, illuminating every snow-covered patch of land, and as he walked along Camp Dragonhead’s battlements, he could see the distant sparkles as light refracted off of individual snowflakes. In conjunction with the aetheryte that served as a centerpiece for this place, it almost looked otherworldly in its ethereal beauty.

He could see everything in this light; the lonely silhouettes of cold soldiers standing sentinel along the wall, the little braziers glowing near doors and archways and awnings. A pair of weary travelers tacked up their chocobos in a small stable nearby, but there were no tradesmen out and about. Qorin turned his gaze southward, his attention caught momentarily by the specks of light dotting the otherwise dark tower in the distance.

“Aye, ‘tis pretty,” the elezen beside him said, his voice low in both timbre and tone. “Most of the soldiers here would rather be there.”

“I don’t blame them,” Qorin replied, turning his violet gaze upward. “Books and a warm fire, or wind on a cold wall? I know which one I’d take.”

The elezen laughed softly. “How about a bed and a warm fire in the inn over yonder? You’re not the Night Watch. You don’t have to stay up here.”

“I wanted to see the snow in the moonlight. It reminds me of the white sands back home.”

“I can see it,” the man said with a bit of a smile. “I bet it’s a bit warmer there, though.”

“It always is,” Qorin mused, “when you’re reminiscing.” Then he reached up and patted the man on the arm. “I will check in with you on the morrow. If I find you have done something to compromise my healing, I will be very cross with you.”

After seeing himself down to the ground, Qorin made for the barracks. He’d been offered free lodging and food for going out of his way to come here on such short notice, so he couldn’t complain, but every time he entered the building his eyes were drawn to an old, worn lance that leaned against the wall… and every time he saw it he thought about picking it up.

Another time, he thought as he ascended the stairs into the barracks proper, shielding his eyes from the bright blaze of the brazier just to the side of the landing. If it’s there tomorrow, maybe.

[[ @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast ]]