#is q’lhani in this state ever going to make sense anyway

[meracydia-miqo]

FFXIVWrite 2024 - Day 16: Third-rate

spoilers for late dawntrail

———

Third-rate.

That’s all she was, and all she would ever be. A weapon, useful only for combat, and useless anywhere else. A sword cast aside at the end of the war, exhausted of its value. Was that why the Scions didn’t care where she went, after their disbandment? When she was no longer needed to point at whatever villain she was to strike down next? That was what happened, after all, when she was called back as soon as something did pop up.

She could still hear the voices of her captors, back before it all began. ’Worthless scum!’ ‘Unsightly bag of flesh,’ ‘piece of sahagin shite.’ ‘You should be grateful the Navigator ever found you worthy enough to not drown in that ocean.’

She could never stand up at the same level as others. She was always the ‘other,’ sent off to do whatever they bid of her. She never should’ve expected for anything good to come of anything, because as much as the world could claim to love her, what use is a sword with no blade?

And what use is a sword that can’t even hit its target? Swung blindly in the night, sharp, but slicing naught but air. A weapon like her could never have anything for itself. It was just a tool, existing to be used.

And yet still she yearned, and knew she could never have.

It was foolish to imagine that just because she had been given any sort of break, to think that it could last. Why had she ever thought that things could be different, when she returned back to the Source and boarded that ship to sail to the new world? She wondered, at times, if she should’ve taken Erenville up on his admonition and drop out of helping with the Rite before it ever began. To go back home to Eulmore where she could have value outside of her fighting prowess.

“Q’lhani.”

She felt useless inside the dome. Walking into Tuliyollal and seeing the remains of a battle she could do nothing to prevent; walking in to the wasteland of what should’ve been, what had been just a week earlier, Erenville’s home. And now her only purpose was to go and defeat Zoraal Ja and stop a war and save everyone else, when all she had wanted was to live a life for once.

“Q’lhani.”

But she couldn’t. She was never going to be worthy of anything like that. A slave to the end, following others whims.

“Lhani, you’re doing it again.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her back into reality. She was standing in the ruins of Tesh’pyani, Erenville’s—nay, what should have been Elene’shpya’s home in front of her, now appearing only old, dilapidated, dead.

Alisaie stood beside her, staring up at her with a mix of concern and impatience, and when Q’lhani looked up, blinking to refocus her eyes, she saw the others, that strange new person (sfee…Sphere? Sphene? She still didn’t like her. Why should she even care about her name?) included, already a while ahead of them, heading down the path outside of the village.

She let out a grunt and looked away, unwilling to speak up. It didn’t matter. Why would it matter?

But Alisaie didn’t let up, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at her, glaring. Q’lhani missed sometimes when she was still almost a fulm shorter than her. There was only a few ilms between them now.

“You’re spiralling.”

Q’lhani didn’t have the bite in her to try and deny what she knew was true. Alisaie had picked up on as much over all the time they’d known each other, and even Dulia-Chai would tell her that’s what it was. It didn’t help her feel any better in the moment. Didn’t change everything that weighed down on her.

“Why should I even be here?” she grumbled. “I, me, personally. Do I even exist at this point?” She squirmed, trying to wriggle her way out of Alisaie’s grasp, but her hands only clenched tighter, holding her in place. The hair on her tail bristled, and she scowled.

“You do exist, and I know that you know that.” Alisaie insisted. “Just this once…forget about what everybody else thinks of you—who even cares about them anyway? They’re all stupid. And then, tell me: you wanted to come here, yes?”

I wanted to go to the actual Yyasulani. Not this…not this cheap replacement, Q’lhani thought, but didn’t speak up. It shouldn’t look like this. None of this should’ve happened. It’s all my fault, because I’m here, because nothing can ever go well when I’m here. She tried to force herself out of Alisaie’s grasp again, still refusing to say anything. She shouldn’t have wanted to come. She shouldn’t have cared. If she hadn’t cared, then none of this would’ve been an issue.

“Lhani. Please, listen to me.” Alisaie was starting to sound desperate though, and it stung to hear. It was just another way—

She stopped herself. She didn’t…she was only going to make Alisaie feel worse.

“…It shouldn’t be in this state.” Q’lhani spoke up at last, and at that Alisaie let up her grip, allowing Q’lhani to retreat.

“Agreed. So, let’s go on, and give Zoraal Ja a piece of our minds, yes?”

Q’lhani crossed her arms in front of her, not looking Alisaie’s direction. She flicked her tail once in frustration, before it calmed, stiffening. “I’ll kill him.”

“Beat him until he’s within an ilm of life, and then let’s save that honour for Lamaty’i,” Alisaie corrected. Q’lhani didn’t say anything, only closing her eyes as she ducked her head and then began to walk off. Deep down, she always knew Alisaie was right, and yet at times, it only made her feel worse.

I’m just a third-rate friend, too, making her deal with someone like me.

Alisaie’s voice sounded from behind her. “You deserve a break from always being the one to do it. You need it.”

She made no indication of having heard.

Just…leave me be. Don’t involve yourself with me.