#vaguely emet / wol but only from a canonical angle. Sylv has a very internal life experience and keeps much of the world and herself

[prismbearer]

Organizing old documents and I stumbled across some old FFXIV writing prompts I never finished, aha.

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Prompt: Cross

- Theater. to move from one side of the stage to the other, espec ially by passing downstage of another actor.

- Slang. to betray; double-cross.

SYLVAIN: Cross - to betray; double-cross.

Despite the reality of the situation, the light of the First had an appeal from the very beginning. Immediately upon waking in the lavender-hued forest, Sylvain had thought there to be an unnatural beauty to her surroundings–the air all but singing as she walked. The trees were unlike anything she had seen on the Source, exuding a mystical appeal that brought a sense of wonder; and then the truth struck when she bore witness to the effects of the light on the living. In the end, bringing the night to this world, restoring the balance, was in her nature. It was the cost, that gave her pause.

All this time, she had been known as the Warrior of Light, though where others saw the sun, Sylvain had always thought of herself as more a distant star. A dim, constant light that guides but does not truly burn. Perhaps in the end, Warrior of Darkness was more accurate. She was hardly a natural hero; once upon a time she had woken in another forest with no memory at all. An adventurer without a past, only provided a purpose. Sylvain was guided into her position by Hydaelyn herself, blessed and emboldened by her light… But was she the Warrior of Light? Or was it just another role in what appeared to be a millenia-long struggle to claim an uncertain future?

Standing at the wide window of her room at the Pendants, Sylvain stared up at the eternal light overhead… and tried not to feel the light within writhe in fury. As she closed her eyes the light remained, seething. Ardbert had been a helpful constant, but even his supportive presence could not be salve to her soul. Better to feel the light than the burn of betrayal. Sylvain repeated this to herself as hot tears filled her eyes. It must be the frustration of failure… It could hardly be that she cared about another in such a way, much less an Ascian.

In truth, she could not even claim that he had crossed the Scions. Emet-selch had been open regarding his intentions all along. He had smiled and laughed and followed her around throughout her time there… and she had simply let him. Would the “Warrior of Light” have counted on the meager potential of a path of cooperation? Would a hero, as he so mockingly called her, fail at the climax of their duty? Truly, the man seemed to be skilled at cutting to the core of her. No, perhaps it had been Sylvain who had betrayed her purpose. Or was that what he wanted? A helpless hero, bound for a tragic fate.

Damn, but was it difficult to not feel despair. Before she could stop it, a broken laugh escaped her, she grimaced under her hand as she winced at the radiating pain beneath the protections on her soul. At least the others could not see her in this state… The pain eased, the light lessening as she turned away from the window.

In her research, Sylvain had read that Solus zos Galvus had been a supporter of the arts, and of theater in particular. She could not help but wonder, was this another role for him? If so, his acting was impeccable… And yet. There had always been a curiosity, something within that had guided her to follow his movements, the crinkle of his eyes, the gesture of his hands. He had commanded her attention as if she herself was the audience, the figure of his past role crossing the stage until eventually… This was why the others often did the talking. Even in this, even in her own feelings, Sylvain did not have the words.

Why did he haunt her so? She had never considered Lahabrea beyond their encounters… Even Elidibus had not quite caused such curiosity in her. Somehow, merely laying eyes on Emet-selch had come with a striking familiarity. His golden eyes peering beneath dark lashes as she, usually so stoic, could not hide her surprise. It hardly mattered now. Emet-Selch had effectively crossed all potential of cooperation off when she failed to withstand the power of the light. His cutting words had hurt more than anything a villain had dared taunt her with before. As if there was ever another end. As if her path could ever change. Why?

If the Scions knew the direction her thoughts lay, her doubts… Would they still believe in her? Was there a reason for them to that yet remained? If she had learned anything in her experiences, all people died, heroes simply died for causes. The First could be her cause, thwarting a calamity that would kill so many. But could she thwart it? Did she have the strength to somehow overcome the odds against her? To overcome Emet-Selch? It seemed laughable in the here and now, but Sylvain had to believe there was a reason for her role here. That Hydaelyn had plans yet for her soul, that she would not shatter and burst into a monster that would destroy all she had fought for thus far.

Emet-Selch could not matter, and he had made his choice. The chapter of cooperation was closed, and she did not have the time to indulge in reviewing it. No. She would meet Emet-Selch as requested, she would stand strong and do her best to believe that she would somehow overcome the odds again. Sylvain was the Warrior of Light and she would bare it. Emet-Selch may have lost all faith, but it was what she was. Crossing worlds had not changed her role. There was no understudy, no alternative… only their finale.