#tia and rasp's story is finally moving forward!

[bunnyscar]

Mistakes

trigger warning: fear, a little creepy

“You’re going on a date?!” Leslie squealed.

Tia winced. “I-It’s not a date! Rasp said he had an extra ticket for a movie at the theater, so he asked if I wanted to go with him. That’s all. Besides, Ms. Frazzle is going with us,” Tia protested.

Her sister raised an eyebrow, obviously not convinced. “Say what you will, but this is still a momentous occasion! We’d better get you all ready for it. Come on, I’ll do your hair for you. Ooh, why don’t you wear that cute skirt you have, too!”

“There’s no reason for me to get all dressed up,” Tia protested.

Leslie clicked her tongue. “Tsk tsk! Of course there’s a reason! This is your first time going out with a boy. Trust me, I’ll make you look perfect!”

Tia sighed and gave in, knowing that her sister was unstoppable once she made up her mind to do something. Tia was the complete opposite. She hated conflict and almost always submitted to other's decisions, even if she didn't actually agree. Sometimes she wished she could be like Leslie and stand up for her own wants or needs, but she always got scared and let others have their way. It was easier and safer to give up.

Besides, other people were usually smarter than her. It was better to trust another person to make decisions than to rely on her own judgement or intuition. Or so Tia thought to herself that evening, committing her first mistake.

It was a couple of hours later that Tia made her way downstairs, her cheeks warm with embarrassment. Leslie had put her hair up in ponytails and braided them, just like their mother used to do when the girls were little. Making her feel even more like a young girl, Tia had been outfitted with a pink skirt and a blouse with puffy sleeves, making her feel like she was dressing up as a princess. She sighed, pausing to sit on the stairs for a moment, her forehead pressed against her knees.

Though she appreciated Leslie’s desire to help, she felt her sister was jumping to conclusions. This wasn’t really a date. Ms. Frazzle would be chaperoning them, and they weren’t even going to see a romantic movie; the movie was about some superhero that Rasp was interested in.

And whatever Leslie imagined, there was no romance between Tia and Rasp. She was pretty convinced he didn’t understand romance, and he treated her more like a good friend than a romantic interest. They were too young for it to be real anyway, right? Tia felt her cheeks begin to burn again as she thought about it.

The doorbell rang, making her start and almost fall down the stairs. Quickly, she made her way down and opened the front door.

Rasp came bouncing in, followed by a sour-faced Ms. Frazzle. “Hi Tia! Are ya ready?” he cried eagerly.

“Y-yeah,” she said shyly, twisting her hands together. She suddenly felt very self-conscious of her clothes and hair. Rasp, however, either ignored or did not notice her discomfort and bounced outside the house again. “Let’s go! Superman, here we come!”

Ms. Frazzle sighed. “Spider-Man, you mean,” she said reprovingly.

Tia followed them outside, pausing just before she shut the door, an uneasy feeling in her stomach calling her to stay inside. But she buried it away, convincing herself she was just nervous about doing something for the first time. She’d never gone with friends to the movie theater before, only with her sister, and even that had only been once or twice.

She hurried into Ms. Frazzle’s car without another look back, her second mistake that night.

The theater was old. Its sign was falling off, cracks could be seen running all over the walls, and barely any light shone through the entrance’s glass doors. Ominous creaks came from the roof, which looked about ready to cave in. To make matters worse, there was not a soul in sight, not another car in the parking lot, not even any lights on in the surrounding buildings, which consisted mostly of condemned apartments.

“A-are you sure this the right place?” Tia asked anxiously, shivering and drawing closer to Rasp, who was looking curiously at the theater without a hint of fear.

“Yes, yes, this is it,” Ms. Frazzle said briskly, ushering the children towards the building’s dilapidated doors. Her sour mood seemed to have lightened now that they were in front of this mess of a theater, though why she would be happy about such an ominous place, Tia had no idea. A great sense of foreboding came upon her, and she wanted to turn and run away from that awful building.

But Rasp was already inside, and Tia feared being alone in a dark parking lot more than going into a scary building with her friend. Surely it would be all right. Surely their teacher wouldn’t bring them somewhere that was actually dangerous. So Tia followed Rasp and her teacher into the building, making her third mistake that night.

Inside did not look more inviting. Dim, flickering lamps illuminated halls of red carpet and dark doors that led to the individual theaters. One hallway was blocked off with caution tape, behind which appeared to be piles of rubble and broken chairs. Directly in front of Ms. Frazzle stood a computerized check-in counter, its bright screen looking very out of place in this dingy building. There did not appear to be anyone else here, and Tia soon regretted having stepped inside, no matter how dark and lonely it was outside.

“Where are the workers?” she asked nervously.

“Maybe everyone’s on vacation? Or maybe they’re trying to set a mood?” Rasp suggested, but even he was beginning to look more thoughtful and less excited about watching a movie in an abandoned theater.

Ms. Frazzle didn’t answer either of them. She stepped over to the kiosk and punched some buttons, retrieving three tickets.

“Our theater is number 8,” she said, handing each child a ticket. “Come, let’s go.” And she began striding off down the hall.

Tia stood rooted to the spot, though. She must have been crazy to enter this building. Something was wrong about this place, and she didn’t want to go any further. No matter what Ms. Frazzle thought.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t think…maybe we shouldn’t…,” she stammered, glancing anxiously at the exit.

Ms. Frazzle turned back suddenly and grabbed Tia’s wrist, pulling her down the hall. “Come or we’ll miss it,” she said eagerly.

Tia had thought Ms. Frazzle wasn’t interested in the movie, so it had seemed strange when she had become more excited the closer they got to this creepy building. Now Tia was convinced something was wrong with Ms. Frazzle too. The teacher had a strange glint in her eyes and wore an almost maniacal grin on her face, made more creepy because of the strange shadows cast by the dim lighting.

Weakly Tia tried to resist Ms. Frazzle, but the teacher’s grip was strong as metal and so tight that her wrist began to hurt. Beginning to panic, Tia let out a yelp.

Rasp suddenly stepped in front of them. He grabbed Tia’s other wrist, and though his grip was firm, it was not painful. Carefully, he extricated Tia’s wrist from Ms. Frazzle’s hand and moved himself so that he stood in between Tia and the teacher.

“All right, all right, we’re coming,” he said. Though his words remained nonchalant, there was a slight edge to his voice and something dangerous in the look he gave Ms. Frazzle. She frowned, but merely shrugged and strode down the hall.

Rasp turned to Tia and gave her an encouraging smile. His hand felt warm on her wrist, and she began to relax.

“Let’s go, Tia. Ms. Frazzle is a bit impatient sometimes, but it’ll be all right.”

Tia nodded, though she still felt a great sense of foreboding as they walked down the dark hallway. But her fear of Ms. Frazzle and what she might do if they disobeyed overshadowed everything else at the moment, and she committed her final mistake.

The theater room was even darker than the hallway, and they tripped their way to a couple of seats in the middle of the room. The darkness seemed to press in on them as they waited for the movie to start. Tia began to breathe faster, panic growing in her chest.

She couldn’t see anything, and she only knew Rasp sat next to her because she was still holding his hand. Normally she would have been too embarrassed to hold it this long, but in the all-consuming dark, it was her only source of comfort. Please, please, let the movie start soon, she willed with all her heart.

She finally saw something. Something that made her heart stop momentarily, something that made her want to scream but at the same time froze her and rendered her noiseless. Where the movie screen should have been was a pair of glowing eyes. No, not just a pair. Dozens of eyes, glowing a sickly greenish yellow, staring hungrily right at her. Then she heard something shuffling towards her, and she finally screamed.

Previous || Next

[vividreminisce]

I Want - Chapter 1

Here’s the first chapter to my completed series, “I Want”. This was something that I had the inspiration to write last year and it did not let me go. I read so many stories from incredible authors in ao3 and I had the itch to had my own story into the many that were written about a special historian/scholar/leader.

I mentioned it in one of my posts that this series is currently completed on ao3 and if you liked this, don’t hesitate to hop over there to give it a read! It would mean the world to me if some people read this on Tumblr too as I feel that it gives people the privacy to put their thoughts and opinions privately, as I read in a post just very recently.

I am very new to posting anything on Tumblr, so I deeply apologize for making mistakes, either with the story or on the tags; I’m total baby with this, but I will do my best to learn!

Without further ado, below are the tags and below that is the actual story! Please enjoy! :D

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Series Summary: When was the last time that anyone thought of their wants? What happens when they realize them after it was almost too late?

A different approach to when the Warrior of Darkness and Crystal Exarch return to the Crystarium after the battle with the Ascian. Emotions run high from several days of healing and only having themselves to sort them out.

Chapter Summary: The battle has been won and now it is time to go home. The Scions of the Seventh Dawn, the Warrior of Darkness, A’viloh Entialpoh, and the Crystal Exarch prepare for the trek out back to the Crystarium. However, the Warrior asks something of the Exarch before they part, both unwilling to leave yet.

Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV

Ship: G’raha Tia/Crystal Exarch x OC

Rating: Mature, SFW,

Writing Tags: Some depictions of medical procedures (not medically trained, so some facts will be medically wrong, but it’s all for the story), Slow Burn, Angst, Hurt, Healing, Comfort, Acceptance, Fluff.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“G’raha… Hold on just a bit more, please….”

“We have made it this far… It would be… A disgrace to my people should their leader fall now…”

“...A disgrace… That is certainly one way to put it… It is not. You have… gone through much these last few days. We all have.”

Whether G’raha wanted to acknowledge those words, or simply make it seem like he did not hear from how quietly the Warrior spoke them, the brunette did not know. The little that he did at the moment was enough to keep him moving. Just like how Ardbert asked of him not too long ago.

He had defeated Hades.

The Crystal Exarch had been saved.

All of the Scions were alive.

And they were all on their way out of The Tempest.

Something curious made the Warrior almost falter: when having spoken the Exarch’s true name, he had shuddered, also losing momentum. His stance had closed, almost as if wanting to shield himself. Once he had noticed how far he was from the Warrior, he did his best to catch up, a slight limp in his step. The Warrior kept his attention elsewhere but took note of that strange happening, instead raising his head to where the surface could be seen. They only needed to climb to the water's edge and then, only then, could they be swept by the waters of Kholusia. At least, that was the theory.

“Follow my lead, Ryne. A’viloh, I expect that you will be the last to climb?”

“Yes. I will give everyone a boost. Please, keep the Exarch close to you.”

“Of course.”

“I… apologize for the burden--”

“We will have none of that, Exarch. Alisaie and I will be right behind you. You have been away from the Tower for too long. We will give you as much healing as we are able, we only ask that you keep moving forward.”

“I trust that you will keep your eyes where your hands lay, Urianger.”

“Of course, my lady.”

A’viloh couldn’t help the slight smile from appearing on his face at hearing his friends--his family--conversing normally. As if they did not just fell one akin to a god, the very same Ascian that was hellbent on making the Eighth Umbral Calamity happen in the Source. He knew that it wasn’t just for show. He could feel their nervous and grateful energy at being able to see the sky another day. It followed Alphinaud when his trembling hands grasped the strong rocks above him, lead Alisaie when she would ask the Exarch if he needed more healing magic, and stayed with Y’shtola when she kept her eyes on the calm waters looming closer. Ryne would glance down occasionally to see that everyone was clinging on with all of their might, and also to guide the Exarch’s hands to the right places. Thancred did not look their way once.

Once the Warrior saw Urianger’s hand reach the surface, he began his climb. His eyes never left the tower of rock in front of him as his mind wandered for a brief moment.

‘I musnt forget to write all of this in my journal…’

=====

His wounds were enough to keep him awake as he swam to the surface. He found Alphinaud’s face firmly planted on the wet sands of the beach, Alisaie shaking him vigorously.

“Alphinaud! For God's sakes…”

Brown eyes turned, next seeing Thancred patting the Exarch’s back as the latter tried to catch his breath. Ryne was instantly at the leader’s side, hand on his bloodied forearm as she quietly spoke to him. Y’shtola was at a distance, doing her best to wring out the water from her dress as it clung to her. Milky eyes locked with A’viloh’s, and judging from her expression, they found her target. She returned to her task of unsticking her dress from her skin, a faint smile on her pale lips.

A’viloh nodded to each head and frowned when he saw that they were one short. Honey and caramel eyes surveyed the land in front of him until they found their goal and slowly swam to the dead-fished Astrologian.

“A’viloh! There you are! Oh, and Urianger too! Is… Is he breathing…?”

Once A’viloh had gotten the weary Elezen to his feet did the Oracle of Light get an answer.

“T… T’would seem that… those lessons… mayhap would have…”

“He will be fine, Ryne,” A’viloh reassured. “How do you all fare…?” he asked, keeping Urianger steady. Strong hands gently patted the Elezen’s back until his breathing had gone steady. Tired amber eyes gave their thanks to the dark knight, nodding in reassurance.

“Aside from my aching back and Ryne’s dress being in tatters, I do believe that we are quite alive.”

A’viloh turned to the twins, Alisaie finally getting her brother up. Alphinaud’s hands went to his face and started to rub all the sand off his red cheeks, a tear or two coming down from how irritated his eyes were. He could read the twin’s lips, the poor Leveilleur cursing the saltiness of the sea. Alisaie sighed deeply and gave her brother’s back one last smack before affirming that they were alright as well.

Thancred turned to regard the leader of the Crystarium. Anyone with eyes could see that he wasn’t doing well and needed to get back to the Tower. Immediately. Gray hues tried to search for the Allagan ones, but the Exarch wouldn’t lift his head. It wasn’t until Thancred stepped closer that he could hear the rasped breathing from the leader.

The gunbreaker took another step, voice hushed as he bent down slightly. “Exarch, we are a bit far from the nearest Amarokeeper and it would not do for you to collapse now. I must ask that you get on my back, I have the strength to carry you.”

Despite his hushed voice, The Warrior of Darkness overhead his words and turned his head, fully expecting the leader to take the offer. Instead, his expression grew dark when he saw the opposite. The Exarch’s normally relaxed posture was more reclusive, trembling hands slowly wrangling in what A’viloh could only guess was nervousness. Faded ears were pinned, and if a tail could be present, he imagined it would either be curled up around one of his injured legs or between them. He saw the Exarch take two deep breaths and finally lift his head.

Allagan red pierced into the Scion’s stern ones, making them go wide. “It is true that my distance from the Tower has depleted my strength. However, if I am to return to my people, it will be by my own two feet. I need only take a bit more time to arrive.”

Thancred strengthened up, and if it had been any other situation, he would have commented on the Exarch’s stubbornness. But now was not the time nor was he in the mood to argue.

The Warrior kept his smile away at the remnants of his old friend appearing, however, it would only get them so far, no pun intended. He stepped to the Exarch’s left, the leader acknowledging him only by turning slightly in his direction. Placing his hand on the leader’s forearm, he gazed in the direction of the nearest civilization, his plan coming forward.

“Thancred, would it be too much trouble for you and Ryne to head to Wright and procure us some Amaros?” He turned his head head at the sound of footsteps, calculating, but kind eyes focusing on one of the twins, giving the next part of his plan. “Alphinaud, how do you fare with going to the Crystarium with Alisaie?”

The young Elezen tilted his head to the side, the salt water finally leaving his ears after giving them a few pats. He tried to follow the Warrior’s train of thought, but couldn’t figure out where it was heading. “We can make it, but… may I ask why just us two?”

A misstep in his plan; of course it wasn’t just those two that should go. With an apologetic smile, he answered. “My apologies. Please, inform Lyna that we are on our way back home. She will feel more at ease in seeing you both first. Knowing the Captain, she will start to prepare for our recuperation And…  I have a feeling that she has people waiting at all entrances for our return, so you will not have to travel far to find her. Y’shtola, Urianger, with that being said, if you are able, inform Chessamile of the number of beds that needs be prepared. Our wounds are severe, but not life threatening.”

Alisaie blinked at how easily the instructions came from her friend. How long did it take for him to think this all through? She couldn’t help herself in voicing those thoughts, adding a bit of her spark as she crossed her soaked arms. “We have barely left you alone, how have you come up with this plan? Now that your soul is complete again, did it change you to start barking orders?” She meant well, giving the Warrior an easy smile. Tired as he was, she shouldn’t have been too surprised; he always was one to put people first.

“Bark is one way of putting it, yes… Mayhaps your soul should break once or twice to bring you down to size…” came Y’shtola’s sly comment, thankfully only amused by her friend’s orders. Should she have been miffed by him… A’viloh couldn’t help himself in giving his fellow miqo’te a nervous smile, thinking it better to explain himself before others start bringing in their input. He looked up to the sky, his smile more natural on his lips. The sky… it might be a different sky from being in a different land, but it looked just like the one in the Source. Red hues mixing with now natural gold, the gentle blue fading away, the clouds forming shapes that he wished he could just lay down and pay attention to.

But not now. He was thinking too much now. There was too much to do, and he was thinking too quickly.

“Change me, no… But my thoughts are much clearer. That was quite a climb we had, and it made me think of what needs to be done for now” His eyes closed at that. Six beds, bandages and gauze, plenty of alcohol, healers to close the wounds once disinfected--

He turned his head towards Alisaie’s direction, mismatched brown opening to regard her with warmth. “It is much easier to think about my family and what they need. We are almost done, we need just one last push. We do not have much time to waste, and we must act quickly and efficiently. I will join the Exarch at his pace in going back to the Crystariym. Worry not, I will see that we make it back home in one piece.” A’viloh nodded, his eyes landing on each of his friends and taking into account their wounds.

Alphinaud still had salt in his eyes and his ears were a bit red from the water. His clothes were in tatters and he could see a deep bruise appearing on his side, along with some dry blood on his hands. Alisaie had a cut on her cheek and her hair was coming undone. The Warrior didn’t want to look too far down without her knowing, but he could see quite a bit of bruises on her legs as well as how she leaned her weight to her left leg. He already knew that Y’shtola’s back was bruised, and while she tried to hide her short breathing, he had a feeling that one of her ribs was broken. Urianger did his best to appear in his five senses, but from how unfocused his eyes were at times, he must have had a concussion. His clothes weren’t faring any better, cuts and bruises trailing down. Poor Ryne’s dress was indeed in tatters, her shoulders now bare and her boots only holding up by strap or two. Her hands trembled under the sleeves and she grasped them lightly at times. The ribbon in her hair was long gone, and he could see how she tried to bring her hair back now and then. Her white dress didn’t hide the bruises and cuts on her arms, and he dare not think of how her ankles were doing from how the mixture of blood and salt stayed on them. Thancred’s armor had thankfully protected him through most of the blows, just some scratches here and there, but A’viloh knew that he had a few broken bones. Was that a broken finger…?

And the Exarch… G’raha…

It wasn’t that A’viloh didn’t want to pay attention to him. Far from it. However, he knew that the moment he did, he would focus on nothing more. G’raha… his friend… He was here… He was safe. And he was right next to A’viloh. From the little he could see from the corner of his eye, making sure that he was looking straight to the Scions, G’raha was looking up at him. Making what kind of expression, he did not know. But Y’shtola could see it full well. A’viloh tried to read her expression, but she was as unreadable as her eyes. And she made sure to keep it that way. Her milky hues shifted to A’viloh’s, keeping her voice steady.

“Urianger and I will inform the chirurgeons on what needs be prepared. As you say, we must act quickly and effectively. I will assume that no one has any objections?”

Thancred was already on the move with Ryne right behind him, the young hume having given a bit of healing to the Exarch before patting his arm and walking quickly to catch up. The gunbreaker just wanted to scrub his damn armor clean, the tainted aether reminding him too much of his time with Lahabrea. He welcomed the young girl to his side, her pure aether keeping him focused.

Alphinaud was following the gunbreaker at his own pace, speaking quietly with Alisaie as to what should be said once they arrive. Much had happened, and much more had to be kept secret, else the city would be overcome with worry. He gave his arm to his sister, who swatted it away… until she realized that she would be walking too slowly for her own comfort, and promptly wrangled him back so that he would walk at her pace. And she made damn sure to place almost all of her weight on him, her twin smiling at her antics. Y’shtola had wrapped an arm around Urianger’s as well, carefully guiding him towards the right path to Wright. The astrologian was more than willing to follow in her footsteps, although surprised by her initiative. It was not too long ago that she regarded him with scorn from how much he kept hidden from her. He knew that it would take her some time to forgive, and knew even more that she would never forget.

“...Warrior.”

A’viloh jumped at being called; he could no longer keep his gaze forward. He had given enough reason for the Scions to leave them be. They knew that there was much that the Exarch and him needed to speak about, and while now was not the time, they could still be near each other. He looked down at the leader who had not left his side. The same one that still let his hand rest on the one arm that was still made of flesh. G’raha’s gazed up at A’viloh, searching for something that A’viloh did not know of. There was still so much that he didn’t know, and more that he could if he just really put his mind to it. But now was not the time. He wanted to--

“You referred… to the Crystarium as your home. Do you truly see it that way…?”

‘Is it our home…? It is the home to many… It is… my home at the moment…’ A’viloh thought. He focused on the hand that was on the Exarch’s arm, becoming aware of how little warmth it emanated. More than that, he could see goosebumps appearing. ‘He’s freezing… ‘

“...It is my home.” A’viloh finally answered. He gazed deeply into those Allagan eyes, searching just as much as G’raha did. The leader stayed silent for a few beats, his rasped breathing along with the gentle tide of the sea being the only noise. He seemed to have found his answer--or at least was content enough with what he saw--and smiled tiredly, speaking loud enough to be heard above the waves.

“...Full glad am I to hear that. Should the people of the Crystarium know, they will be filled with joy.”

A’viloh’s tore his eyes away, trying to keep them on the faraway village. There was so much to speak about, so much that they needed to get straightened out. So much that he wanted to say.

Once they were well, talking could happen. He put his other hand on G’raha’s crystal arm, almost pulling away from how faint the aether was. It was even colder, A’viloh frowning from the temperature.

“Full glad will your people be when they see you back” Gaze flicking to the faded ears of the leader, he questioned. “How would you like to see them?” As much as he expected to know the answer, he didn’t, nor did he want to assume.

G’raha’s eyes went wide at the question, realizing the situation. It was true that no one had seen him without his cowl, this being the first time in… well, ever. However, so much had happened, and so many questions would arise. Nerves began to come up, his ears flicking back as he gazed down at the Warrior’s boots.

A’viloh found his answer then. His lips pulled up into a half smile, looking over at his hand. The leader… he was incredibly expressive. The Warrior couldn’t believe how blind he has been for so long to not see how expressive he was. He felt the slight trembles of G’raha’s cold arms and gave them a light squeeze. G’raha instinctually looked up from the movement and found himself less than a fulm away from the Warrior. He saw how clear A’viloh’s eyes were, but more than that, how different they were. One darker than the other, both watched him with warmth and understanding.

So, so much warmth, and understanding. How he relished in the feeling after the last few days they all had.

“I am not sure how you lasted so long with your ears down. Pulling the cowl up, is that all I need to do?” came the question, both hands lightly grasping the base of said item.

It wasn’t just the distance from the Tower that made his blood run cold. His cowl. The item that he hid behind for so long and needed to go back into. It was his symbol, along with his staff. That was how everyone in the Crystarium, no, all of the First, saw him with. The Crystal Exarch was a mysterious man whom no one knew where he came from or how he looked like underneath the hood. He gave, he helped, and he lead. That was his role, and that was all he could ever be.

A’viloh’s brows furrowed at G’raha’s expression. He was shaking harder, eyes wide and… resigned. They were tired. So, so very tired.

…Ah, he knew that look too. He knew it very well.

At least, he thought he did. And he hoped that he was saying something close to what his friend wanted to hear. “...You do not need to keep it up. Not with me.” His hands left the hood, placing them on his friend’s shaking shoulders and giving them another squeeze. They came down slightly, having tensed up from the question.

Keeping his hood down with the Warrior. Keeping his hood down… 

What a wonderful dream that would be.

A’viloh lightly placed a hand on G’raha’s head, gauging how familiar he could be with the leader. G’raha jumped but said nothing, looking up at him from beneath his lashed. This was good enough.

“You will keep your cowl down when you are ready. Do not worry about your people, they will wait as much as they need to to see their beacon’s face.” He slowly spread his hand wide open, thumb and pinky slightly touching the base of his ears. G’raha’s breath hitched at the intimate action, his ears plastering to his head and the Warrior took that chance to carefully pull the cowl over G’raha’s head. His hand swiftly pulled away, bringing down the hood a bit more before keeping his hands to himself. The magicks in the hood worked immediately, only the leader’s bottom half of his face being seen. Despite that, A’viloh could feel the shock emanating from G’raha, and how he wanted to say something, but the Warrior was already onto the next step.

With his back to the leader, he kneeled as he spoke quickly, getting the next words out before his own nerves got the better of him. They needed to get going, just now remembering the fatal wound that the leader had on his back. How he was still standing, A’viloh had no idea.

“There is much that needs to be discussed, and I would love nothing more than to speak with you in private, just as… we would in the past.” He faltered at the end, his heart tugging at the lie.

‘It isn’t entirely a lie.’ That faint, murky voice dwelling deep in his soul reassured. Ah, there was Esteem. He had been ominously quiet during his time in Amaurot, though his presence was clearly there when fighting Hades. A’viloh was starting to worry when he could barely feel him at the end, thinking that the immense light might have done something (he wouldn’t say extinguish, but when dealing with a deadly essence that was the exact opposite of them, he could never be too careful). The dull worry in his mind lessened, acknowledging his words as relief flooded in.

No, they did not speak as much when they were at the Source, far less from all of the light that the Warrior had for so long. But now that it was gone, they should be more active...right?

Continuing, the Warrior did not spare a glance at G’raha. That word, beacon… It was one that he had not heard in a long time. Did it have the same effect on his friend as how it did for him all those years ago? “And talk we will. Once we get back to the Crystarium, and get better, we will talk. You have more days to live and now, you can decide how you would like to live them. I know that you said that you can walk on your own but… please, let me help you. Here, and back home.” When he heard no response, he willed himself to turn his head. G’raha stood there, not having moved an inch. Face still obscured, his mouth was agape and looking much paler than he was minutes ago.

Were his lungs devoid of air because of physical reasons or from the Warrior’s words? Most likely both. Talk, back home, help… They could go back home and they could talk. They could be in the same room and talk, or just, just be. Oh how he wanted that. How he yearned for that.

Taking a shaky step forward, he hadn’t raised his foot high enough, gripping at air when he began to fall but the Warrior rose quickly to catch him. He landed steadily on A’viloh’s back, his arms being brought around the Warrior’s neck. As his legs were hooked, he involuntarily melted onto the Warrior’s strong back. Turning his face to the left, his hood kept jabbing into this skin, and the Warrior’s, but they made no mention. Instead, they kept going, the wind keeping him awake enough as the tiredness started to settle in.

A’viloh thanked his lucky stars at how well that went, knowing that if they had not intervened, they would have continued to talk and G’raha would have undoubtedly collapsed, making it much harder to transport them both. Once he settled into a steady rhythm, he spoke again, volume high enough to get his friend’s attention.

“When we get back, would you like for the people at the Spagyrics to treat you or myself?”

‘What of your wounds?’ he questioned in his mind. Opening his mouth, he tried to voice them, taking several tries to get the words out. So tired… so sore… 

“I will be fine. I will treat myself as well, don’t worry.”

“I… I know you… Warrior… You will… put… me above yourself…” He rasped out, his throat starting to burn. The wound on his back ached, making him curl up slightly from the movement. A’viloh took note of that and did his best to control his walk, still moving quickly but with less movement. His calves were cramping up, his back shooting up with pain along with his arms but he kept going, bending down more to bring the leader higher on his back. He apologized from how much skin he was making G’raha show and continued on, his space slightly quicker.

“I promise to take care of myself too. If I am not well, how can I take care of you?” He could see Wright in the distance, though still far away. Just a bit more…

“So please… Let me heal you. If I mend you, it will be easier to keep your physical self hidden from your people, if that is your wish. Whatever I cannot mend, I will learn how to.” He didn’t hide his desperation as he kept his brisk walk. The aether in G’raha started to wane, panic consuming some of his thought process.

He would not let himself be denied. Not again. Silver flashed in his mind, the sunset behind him reminding him of that terrible day. Not again, not again, not again--

“Who am I to deny such a request… As if… as if I could deny…” G’raha’s speech slurred, unable to keep his eyes open. His consciousness was fading, the dead trees and land melting altogether.

A’viloh felt G’raha’s hands slip, now running to the Amaro porter where Thancred and Ryne were thankfully waiting for them, the rest already for the Crystarium. As carefully as he could, he settled his unconscious friend in the front and prayed with all his might that he wasn’t too late.

[ainarosewood]

Prompt # 22 Family Sacrifices

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

My extra credit story some more of Aina’s family backround ^.^

Minor RDM quest spoilers beneath cut

X’rhun strode confidently into the oasis that was the main trading hub here in the Sagolii.  He scanned the area and spotted the unmistakable weave patterns of the Antelope tribe.  The miqo′te made his way to the main tent as he entered he saw there on a lush rug surrounded by heavily embroidered cushions sat the very man he was looking for.

“A’lern,” he called as he stopped just before the edge of the rug, “It has been awhile how are you my friend and how is your lovely...is it wife now, Elen.”

A’lern gave him a wide smile, “We are both well, busy now that I am Nunh.  Elen has begun training Aina in the healing arts.”

X’rhun gave a wide smile then asked softly, “How old is that kit now?”

“They are 8 summers old and already learning the healing arts very quickly,” A’lern stated proudly, “Elen eventually wants to make them a Duelist as well but shed prefer to wait till they’re a bit older.”

X’rhun couldn't help but grin the other miqo’te’s pride it was as if the kit was his own and that was by far something wonderful to see.  He then sobered as remembered why he’d come here in the first place.

“Is there any way you can call Elen there’s something I’d like to ask the both of you as fellow Duelists.”

The Nunh sobered himself seeing the change in the other man and said, “Aye,  A’sern” he called louder, “Please ask Elen to come here as soon as she is able I know some of the hunters were needing help earlier,”

“At once Nunh” the young miqo’te responded rushing off.  In less than a bell Elen arrived head cocked slightly her pale green eyes curious.  She strode over to A’lern and turned her gaze to X’rhun.

The silver haired miqo’te sighed then said, “The Mad King has pressed his luck too far. Many of Ala Migo plan on rising up against him and throwing him from the very platform he’s been executing innocents from.   The Duelists that are in Gyr Abania are already poised to strike at the Resistance’s command.  I...came to ask if you would join us...I know its not your fight but, we could use all the help we could get.”

A’lern and Elen exchanged looks before Elen said, “Of the two of us I have the most freedom to go.  There are others who can continue Aina’s training and...A’lern here has to remain or the other Tia’s might try to make a move for power.”

“I’d love nothing more to aid you my friend,” A’lern stated, “After all without your training I never would have become Nunh.  But, I cannot abandon my responsibilities to the tribe, not even for someone I owe so much to.”

X’rhun gave him a reassuring smile, “I fully understand A’lern and I take no offense.  Elen if you will come then we will welcome your blade.”

“You shall have it dear friend,” she responded, “Its the least I can do.”

*******************************************************************************************

Lamberd gave a cruel smile down at the prone Viera, her lifesblood pooling beneath her.  Shakely she reached for her rapier hilt a few ilms away from her out stretched hand. “You never knew when to give up did you Elen,” he said stepping on the hilt and kicking it out of her reach where her soulstone had already been.

“I’ll not stop until your dead, Traitor,” she snarled attempting to crawl forward only to cough blood onto the ground.

He threw his crimson head back and laughed, “The only reason I haven't bothered finishing draining you of your aether is I am quite sated by our fellows.”

“Bastard,” she growled

Lamberd’s smile only widened, “Call me what you like but I see this...partnership by far more lucrative then wasting my time with the Resistance.” He then knelt next to her and murmured, “I think the sweetest thing about this is you are going to die so far from you precious family.”

“I will kill you,” she snarled again trying to force herself up.

He just laughed again then stood as an imperial solider rushed up, “Leave her she’s just about dead anyway.  There is one more of these ‘Duelists’ to find a silver haired Miqo’te,”

Elen watched helpless as the two then strode off her vision blurring with pain and blood loss.  She forced herself to her knees looking in sorrow at the broken and drained bodies of her fellow Duelists.

I..I have to get home... she thought stumbling over to her rapier and collapsing next to it,  A’lern, Aina I’m coming home...X’rhun forgive me but there’s naught else I can do here....stay safe... she thought as she readied a teleport spell her body shaking with the effort.  She had but a wisp of aether left in her body,thanks to that bastards drain, but she had to get home. She was not about to give that traitor the satisfaction of getting what he wanted, and she had to warn A’lern about his betrayal.  

As she completed the spell she felt agony as she was pulled through the lifestream to the aetheryte in the oasis she called home.  Her body crumpled to the ground near it the scents in the air telling her she had made it before darkness took her.

When she finally woke her body still aching with pain though nowhere near what it had been.  Slowly she turned to see a sleeping A’lern her kit curled in his lap. The little kit’s ears twitched at the sound of her movement and they were instantly awake.

“Mama,” Aina said softly then tears welled and they began crying grasping her hand.

“Its alright,” she rasped using the other hand to shakily pat her head A’lern had started at the kits movement but then looked at Elen saying, “What in Seven Hells happened?”

She closed her eyes and said softly, “Lambert...is an agent of Garlemald now the revolution was.... a means for them to grab control of Ala Migo.  That bastard has also been playing with some pretty foul magics he...he killed all of the others draining their aether…”

“So that's why yours was so....” he began, “You...you should not have teleported with your aetheric reserves so low.”

“Your aetheric pathways are damaged,” A’resse stated the young healer striding over to her mentor, “Giving the amount of damage I don't think you will ever be able to cast a spell again.”

She looked at the healer and stated, “Small price to pay to return to my family,” 

“Please rest mama,” Aina said, “With how low your aether is you need to or your going be hurt worse,”

Elen just gave her kit a nod and said, “Aye,” with that she settled back and closed her eyes sleep quickly taking her.

*******************************************************************************************

X’rhun slipped into the palace in the dead of night the moon barely a sliver in the sky as he made his way toward where he knew the other duelists had made their last stand. Blood stained the lush carpets of the room where his friends had fallen.  Grief and rage filled him as he went further into the room, How! how had the Garlean’s known this was where they were going to attack from he thought to himself as he scanned around for clues.

“Looking for something old friend,” a familiar voice drawled

“Lamberd!” he turned with joy at seeing someone had survived the slaughter then stopped as he saw the other man had a blade drawn, “What are you....” 

The other man just gave a cruel smile before stating, “Finishing my job, the Garleans said to eliminate all radical elements,”

It took a few moments for the Miqo’te to realize what Lamberd meant by that and he drew his own rapier snarling, “You bastard!”

He lunged at the other man his skills swiftly overpowering him.  Which perplexed the miqo’te they had once been all but equals. Lamberd fell back panting by far more exhausted than he should have been.  X’rhun let him stating, “What have you done to yourself?”

“None of your concern,” Lamberd panted, “I leave you alive because I choose to, for now remember that!” He then bolted down the hallway shouting as he went. 

“Seven hells,” X’rhrun swore his gaze once again sweeping the room then he spotted them.  There piled in a corner were his friends rapiers and next to them their soulstones swiftly he gathered all of them together and bolted out the way he came as alarms began sounding through the castle.