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starrysnowdrop · 3 years

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Memories Like Scars

Part 2

Yume Aino x Cid Garlond

2,423 Words

Please read the first part HERE

Romantic Tension; Bonding; Expanded Cutscene

This is a retelling of the in-game cutscene where the WoL helps Cid regain his memories and gives him his trademark goggles via the Echo. Here, Yume and Cid relive Cid’s memories together and Yume and Cid discover that they have a strange bond they never imagined that they had.

A gentle breeze blew through Yume’s raven hair as she walked onto the Gridanian airship platform. She brushed a loose strand of hair out of her face and tucked it behind her right horn as she approached the white haired man waiting for her.

When Cid Garlond turned to face her, she could not help but smile. Just why he had this particular effect on her, she really couldn’t explain. She could not stop the butterflies in her stomach and her heart would flutter at the mere sight of him. All she knew was that he has the most brilliant smile, a strong jawline covered with a short, white beard, long, white hair, shining silver eyes, muscular arms, broad shoulders, and a sculpted chest that she always catches herself staring at for far too long... Yes, he was a beautiful man, there was no denying that.

Yet, what she admired most was not skin deep: his jovial nature, his humor, his intelligence, his determination, and most of all, his kindness. Cid helped her to pick up the pieces in the aftermath of the attack on the Scions, with his quick wit and endless compassion for others.

She couldn’t understand it herself, but she felt she could trust him... completely. Such a rarity indeed for the Raen ronin who had left everything behind in Hingashi.

“Yume, you have returned! And just in time too.” Cid smiled as he gestured towards the Enterprise behind him. “According to my tests, the device is now functioning in perfect harmony with the crystal─meaning we can leave whenever you're ready.”

Yume smiled back at him before gently nodding. “That is good to hear. I am ready to go if Alphinaud is.” She gestured to her fellow Scion, who was still talking to one of the airship platform attendants.

The Garlean man nodded in return, then sighed deeply.

“But you must understand: tests can only tell one so much.” Cid folded his arms and looked towards the Enterprise.

“Until we approach the Howling Eye─until we attempt to breach the barrier itself... I cannot be sure that this will work...”

Yume’s sapphire eyes grew wide as she realized what Cid was about to tell her. Not that she hadn’t been in life or death situations before; she had been in far too many for her to count. Still, her heart seized up with the thought of Cid and Alphinaud being in harm’s way. If anyone should be ready to die it was her... not either of her newfound companions.

Cid hesitated a moment before he spoke once more.

“I think it only fair to tell you that there is a small but statistically significant chance that the crystal could trigger a massive...”

Cid shook his head before he unfolded his arms and continued, “Hmmm... Mayhap it is better that we remain positive.”

“Yes, we should foremost be positive, and assured that we will make it through the barrier... then we will defeat Garuda. Doubt will cost you everything,” Yume answered with a calming intonation.

Yume giggled as she looked up to the sky in thought. “A great general once said, ‘Victory belongs to the most persevering’...” She then shrugged as she looked back to Cid, “...or so I have been told anyway.”

The Garlean smiled once more as he seemed to hesitate for a moment. Cid then breathed in deeply as he reached out his hand and caressed Yume’s ivory scaled cheek, while he placed his other hand on her shoulder. Yume’s breath caught in her throat as Cid’s silver eyes looked directly into hers.

“Yume, I want to thank you. For reuniting me with my ship, for trusting in me to develop this plan... for everything. You've helped me to rediscover a part of myself I'd forgotten. I am not the man I once was, and I do not know if I ever shall be... but I do know one thing: this feels right.”

Yume placed her hand over his as she leaned into his touch. Her heart was beating rapidly as she forced herself to stop shaking from the emotions that threatened to overflow.

“There is no need to thank me, Cid. I am glad... glad that we met.”

Cid’s silver eyes softened as Yume continued, “This feels right for me too... as if this was meant to be. I just know that if you are by my side, everything will be alright.”

Cid ran his thumb over her scales on her cheek and brushed his hand down the side of her face till he took his hand back.

He chuckled for a moment, “Ahem... My apologies for the sudden outpouring of sentiment. I would have waited until after the mission, but... well, you understand.”

Yume simply nodded in response before the short elezen in blue and white coughed loudly, finally catching everyone’s attention, “Well, if we are done here, then let us be on our way.”

Alphinaud squeezed himself in between Cid and Yume to step onboard the airship, exasperation set on his face. The two simply shrugged at each other in response before following Alphinaud onto the airship themselves.

———

Once the Enterprise took to the air, Cid was at the helm with Yume standing vigil right by his side. Alphinaud was standing a few fulms behind Cid, his arms crossed while staring out at the cloud filled sky.

Cid reached up and took off his signature goggles, revealing his Garlean third eye. He stared down at the goggles in his hand with a look of longing in his eyes. After a few moments, Cid grabbed his forehead hard, as if the third eye itself was hurting.

“Damn it!” Cid cursed to the winds as he turned towards the Raen.

“I... I once flew in this airship. And I was not alone,” Cid spoke slowly as his mind’s fog began to clear, “There were adventurers on board... adventurers like you, Yume.”

“Cid, are starting to remember something?” Yume inquired.

“I... I think...”

He then was interrupted by a sharp pain in his head. Grasping at his head in a fruitless attempt to stop the sudden painful attack, Cid then turns to Yume with a look of shock mixed with confusion.

Yume gasps as she reaches out to him, but it is no use. She knows what is coming.

A bright light envelops the both of them, as they are transported to an entirely different space. It was a vast empty space filled with a soft light. When Yume looked behind her, Cid was standing there exactly as he was moments before, seemingly stunned at what he was seeing.

“Yume? Is that you?”

Nodding back at him, Yume breathlessly spoke, “Yes... but... I do not know why you are here with me.”

“Where are we? What is this place?” Cid spun around in utter disbelief at the endless nothing around the two of them.

“This is the space where I view visions of the past. This is the power of the Echo.”

“The Echo? The Echo causes THIS?”

“Sometimes, yes... usually I am seeing events unfold already, of someone’s memories. Other times, this space appears while visions appear to me after a short time. I have had this power for as long as I remember, but I still do not know how to control it... or how it works entirely.”

Cid sighs in exasperation. “Alright, well, we must be here for a reason. Let’s figure out what that is then.”

Yume nodded before she answered him, “Cid, you had said that you flew on the airship with adventurers before, right?”

“Yes... though I had only remembered because I was holding my goggles in my hand.”

Cid held his hand out to Yume, the pair of goggles sitting in his palm. Yume stepped forward and looked down at the goggles. She studied them for a second before Cid spoke aloud his thoughts.

“Just how long have I worn these damn goggles?” Cid sighed as he shook his head. “Wait... I think I am beginning to remember something...”

It was mere seconds afterwards that a small boy ran up to them... a boy with white hair and a Garlean third eye. Yume knew instantly that it was Cid as a child.

Yume smiled at the younger Cid as the present Cid seemingly continued to voice his stream of consciousness aloud.

“Ah, yes. I fancied myself a trendsetter in my younger days. The young prodigy, admired by all... exactly like his father.”

The younger Cid sat down at a desk building a tiny version of what appeared to be Magitek armor. Cid continued, “I was born and raised in Garlemald...”

“It was only natural that the precocious young student should become an engineer. Had his father not done the same?”

Child Cid then got up from the desk, with a distressed look in his silver eyes. The boy walked away and faded away into the emptiness. Yume felt tears come to her eyes as Cid continued, “Father... When did we stop seeing eye to eye?”

Suddenly, the space went dark, then appearing from the darkness, the blood red moon Dalamud hung eerily above them.

Cid’s voice began to shake, “When did Meteor become your everything, and your loved ones cease to matter?” Yume turned to Cid and saw the pain in his eyes. “You abandoned us all. But he was there for me, Father─there for me when you were not.”

Yume turned around to see a large man clad in a rust red coat and black Imperial armor. He walked slowly forward and touched the shoulder of who appeared to be Cid a few years younger than he was right now. The armored man looked rather intimidating to be sure, but the younger Cid was not afraid of him. On the contrary, the young Cid seemed to look to the man with admiration in his eyes.

Cid’s voice floated to Yume’s horns as she watched the two figures slowly fade and the soft light return to the space. “Though he proved no better in the end. Gaius was just another man with an all-consuming obsession.”

The Raen’s gaze returned to Cid, who had closed his eyes in contemplation.

“And so I ran─left the Empire behind and came to Eorzea, where I built the Ironworks.”

Opening his eyes, Cid looked down at the goggles in his hand. Suddenly, the space erupted into light, and was replaced by the two standing on the deck of the Enterprise, but accompanying them were a younger Cid sans beard, along with Biggs and Wedge, Cid’s assistants that Yume had saved from the Garleans soon after joining the Immortal Flames.

“Eorzea opened my eyes. It was home to so many manner of people, each with their own hopes and dreams. People worth saving. And so I fought beside them. I wanted to prove that my knowledge could serve a nobler purpose. I wanted to prove that there was another way...”

Cid smiled at his younger self, who was looking out onto a night sky filled with stars, with the wind blowing through his white hair. “And it all began that day, when I found my new home...”

The peaceful atmosphere was broken when a burst of light appeared just over the side of the airship. Yume and Cid squinted their eyes as the younger Cid approached the light.

After Yume’s eyes adjusted to the change in brightness, she soon realized that the light was in the shape of a person. “What...?” Yume inquisitively stepped forward to see the figure more clearly. She gasped when she saw who the figure in the light was.

Cid mimicked his younger self and stared in awe at the light, clearly not quite believing what he was seeing.

“How can that be... I always thought it was just a dream...”

Yume shook her head. “This is no dream, it is one of your memories. But, how is it possible?”

Cid’s silver eyes smiled down at her and he laughed lightly, “Of course, that light─it was you, wasn't it? All along, it was always you...”

A deep blush adorned Yume’s cheeks as the two watched the scene play out in front of them. The light figure of Yume reaches out to the younger Cid and hands him something. She smiles at him before the light fades away. The younger Cid looks down in astonishment at his open palm and sees the goggles sitting there.

After a few moments, the younger Cid places the goggles on his forehead, clipping them to his third eye. He turned around towards Biggs and Wedge, whom both gave a thumbs up in approval.

Yume held her head with her left hand as she concentrated on the scene that had played out in front of her very eyes. “I gave you the goggles...? I must have used the Echo to give them to you... but when?”

“Well, I have had these goggles since I first came to Eorzea, before the Calamity. But I could never remember where I had gotten them from. I always thought that vision of you in light was a mere dream. I can’t believe it really happened.”

Cid looked around at their surroundings as the scene began to fade back to the softly lit empty space. “Then again, it’s hard to believe that we are standing here reliving my memories. But here we are.”

Yume turned to Cid, as she furrowed her brow. “I am just not sure when that could have possibly happened. Before the calamity, I was still in Hingashi... in Kugane specifically.”

Cid brought his hand to his chin in thought for a moment. “Yume, think back to that time... what happened five years ago? Or go back further than that—perhaps it will spark that particular memory.”

Yume closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew what will happen if she concentrated too hard on her memories... those times filled with pain and heartache.

Cid, the man she admired, the one who made her heart skip a beat just from one look, a dear friend who had been there for her when she needed someone the most... what would he think of her if he saw who she truly was? Would he turn away from her in disgust?

Her heart would be shattered if he walked away from her now... but she needed to know. She had to know... did she truly have this connection with Cid before they had even met?

((To be continued))

#my writing #ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #ffxiv fanfiction #ffxiv oc #cid nan garlond #cid garlond #cid garlond x wol #cid x wol #yume aino x cid garlond #yume aino #oc: paint it black #otp: always you [ yume x cid]

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baidar-oroq · 4 years

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10-Avail

(Setting: post 5.3 MSQ, some time after “Lush”)

New Gridania, in the vicinity of Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre:

“You know,” Baidar had said to Y’shtola earlier that day, “You should go see Y’mhitra.”

“I should, should I?” she’d replied, sipping her tea with the practiced nonchalance she’d adopted since their return from the First. Around them, the Rising Stones bustled with the energy that it had in the days since their return, as if making up for the lost time that the Scions had been unconscious, but as always, none of them seemed to pay Baidar and Y’shtola any mind. Everyone knew what was between them, and (once Hoary Boulder had been given a stern talking to by Alisaie about staring) gave them the privacy they deserved. Even when their conversations were decidedly more prosaic than romantic. “Why does that not feel like your idea, Baidar?”

“I’m capable of many ideas,” Baidar replied, grinning that reckless, carefree smile of his.

“Yes. Attempting to climb Kugane Castle. Hunting large and dangerous marks that should not be hunted alone. Buying Allagan melons that follow you around and are possibly invasive species.” She looked at him over the rim of her cup of tea. “But me paying Y’mhitra a visit, if you will beg my pardon, doesn’t sound like it would be solely your idea.”

“You wound me, Y’shtola,” Baidar huffed.

“Only when my aim is off.” She regarded him for a long moment before taking a sip from her tea. “This suggestion, though, has the air of Naoh’li Nelhah around it. One wonders why he did not make it himself.”

Baidar threw himself into one of the chairs at the table as if it were a Garlean trying to make an escape and he was tackling it. “Actually, he was wondering if you were ever going to go pay Matoya a visit, and mentioned your sister along the way. Said he’d come here and ask, but he’s old and just wants to read books for the next era or two.”

Y’shtola’s eyebrows rose, expressively. “When I pay her a visit again is entirely up to me,” she stated. “Can I assume, though, that you met her when I was on the First?”

“Yeah. Went with Krile and Alisaie to ask her for help just before the Empire attacked at Ghimlyt Dark.”

“And what did you think of her?”

Baidar was quiet for a moment. “Before me and Alisaie left, she called me over and looked at me like she was reading a book. Then she said ‘So you’re the one Shtola’s mooning over. You poor bastard.’”

Y’shtola did her best to hide her smile behind her cup of tea, but failed miserably. “I think then you can see why I’d take as long as possible to visit her then, Baidar.”

“I can. But, c’mon, Y’mhitra’s your sister…”

“I have eleven sisters...half-sisters, to be precise, Baidar.”

Baidar’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “Eleven?”

“I’d suspect you weren’t listening when I explained the tribal culture of the Keepers of the Sun to you, Baidar...but it occurs to me that I neglected to tell you that I have that many sisters in the first place.” She finished her tea and rose to her feet. “Very well. I could use a little time out of here...in a sense, I haven’t left Mor Dhona in months. Shall we?”

Baidar wondered if she had decided to go with him out of a sense of obligation caused by her neglecting to tell him about that part of her life. In fairness, he’d never asked; given the utter minefield that his family life was, he often simply did not think to ask about families. But given that he was walking through New Gridania, with Y’shtola on his arm, on a sunny afternoon, when it had seemed for so long that there was a very good chance that she could never return from the First, he’s willing to accept it. As it had turned out, Y’mhitra had been busy, assisting a summoner that was new to the path of summoning, so the two were killing time until she could properly meet with Y’shtola. So they walked, largely in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

“Baidar,” Y’shtola said, coming to a stop and looking up at him. Man, I hope I didn’t just jinx us, thinking about enjoying being with her. “Before we go any further, do you have any qualms or worries about me teaching Darya thaumaturgy?”

Oh, he thought. That. He had been a little surprised when Darya had dashed into the house in Shirogane, had given him a hug, and had excitedly explained that Y’shtola was going to teach her magic. He’d been expecting this question, and figured part of why she’d agreed to go to Gridania with him was to be able to ask it. He tries to put a concerned, serious look on his face, and fails as much as she did at trying to hide her smile. “I...that is to say...I...hadn’t actually given it any thought?”

“Baidar Oroq, I swear....”

He held up one hand for silence, and was somewhat amazed when he got it. “I hadn’t given it much thought because, well, one, I trust you with my heart and my life, and you certainly seem to know what you’re doing with magic. You’re one of the strongest and smartest people I know. If Darya has enough potential for you to see it, then I trust you to teach her. And, you know, it’s not like I have any claim to her. She’s my retainer, she’s, what, fifty or so years older than me, she knows what she’s doing. I trust you both”

Y’shtola nodded, for once one of them managing to hide how they were feeling, because she wasn’t prone to showing how touched he’d made her feel in public. “Good.” She took Baidar’s arm again and led them on. The enjoyable silence continued for a time as they near the Ampitheatre, where a group of actors were seemingly rehearsing on the stage for a performance. “Have you noticed that she is ridiculously beautiful?” Y’shtola added.

“Of course I have. She calls me ‘master’ all the damn time. It’s...distracting.”

“Oh you shouldn’t have told me that. You’re in trouble now, Baidar.”

Baidar looked up on the stage as he shook his head, lamenting his latest state of affairs. His attention was drawn to the performers. One of them was in armor that approximated the armor worn by Gaius van Baelsar during his time where he was attempting to conquer Eorzea, though the helmet was utterly wrong and the actor was carrying a prop sword rather than anything that a Garlean would use. He was facing off against eight other actors, all of them holding a wide variety of prop weapons, dressed in mismatched armor of all colors, except for one, a tall Elezen actor wearing the armor of a paladin, a sword in one hand, a shield in the other. Baidar turned his head to the side as he considered the stage, and then he laughed. “I’ll be fucking damned.”

“Probably, once I start taking advantage of Darya calling you master.”

He pointed at the stage, ignoring Y’shtola’s jibe. “I think I know what the play is. Naoh’li showed me all of Operation Archon through the Echo. This is the battle in the Praetorium.”

“Naoh’li showed you that?” Y’shtola smiled. “And to think, you two nearly killed each other more than once on the First. Now you’re so much closer.”

Baidar was watching the play, not really wanting to re-legislate just what the nature of his friendship with his fellow Scion and her old friend Naoh’li was. The actor playing Gaius raised his sword and shouted “So! Warrior of Light! You and your allies seek to defeat the power of Garlemald? To face the ultimate weapon?!”

“Did Gaius...talk like that?” Y’shtola asked.

“Oh, no. It was far worse than that. Felt like it went on forever.”

“Gaius” raised his sword towards the sky, his helmet going slightly crooked on his head. “Your power will avail you not against me and...bugger me.” The actor took off his helmet, revealing that in fact, Gaius was being played by an elezen woman. “Bloody hell, Alain,” she shouted. “Why does that white helmet I wear when I play that woman in the first act fit but this one never bloody fucking does?”

“I’m almost tempted to bring Naoh’li to see this play,” Baidar said, shaking his head as a hapless Hyur-presumably the ‘Alain’ the actress had shouted at-came onto the stage and collected the helmet prop. “He’d get a kick out of it.”

“Probably.” Y’shtola took him by hand this time and pulled him away. “Shall we go?”

“But what if I wanted to watch the rehearsal?”

“I would say that your power avails you not against me, dear.”

Even the actors heard him laughing at that as they walked away.

(Naoh’li is one of my partner’s characters, an old friend of Y’shtola’s and a fellow Scion and Warrior of Light. His relationship with Baidar is far, far more complicated than I can do justice in a story I’m writing off the top of my head.)

#FFxivWrite2020 #ffxivwrite #baidar and y'shtola #by now i hope you've noticed that the prompt words have generally only marginally inspired what i'm writing #and YES i did make castrum and praetorium into a bad play

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syngigeim · 4 years

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Day 5 - Matter of Fact

Who was Rostik to turn to with these feelings? Certainly not Fareena, he knew her feeling all to clearly on Garleans. And he would have turned to Chotan but his home was in Kugane, which by and large meant he dealt with Garleans under his terms. It was not the perspective he wanted.

Kaen Paniphar was the only one of the “Weapons” team who actually was a part of the Operation Archon. Most of the ones who were deeply tied with Baelsar’s history were desperately bringing back the Scions from the First. But even then, most the members looked at Gaius with utter disdain. Utterly justified but…. Chotan mentioned that Kaen was the first to actually chat with him so maybe he could talk to her about this uneasiness.

He turned on his linkpearl. “Kaen? Can I speak with you somewhere private?”

“My Free Company room is available?” she replied.

“Thank you. I shall see you there.”

That explained the questioning tone within Kaen’s reply. The room was nearly bare, expect for bric-a-brac scattered about. Rostik knelt down to look at a pig whirling on an umbrella. It was rather cute. He wanted to touch it, but fear that the contraption would falter stopped him.

It was then that Kaen entered in. “So what kind of talk is this? Is this a quick one or long one?”

Rostik coughed. “I was...uh, hoping to discuss the Weapons project, and uh, things surrounding it.”

Kaen sighed. “Long one it is. I’ll be back.”

Rostik nodded and, as soon as she left the room, laid down on the ground to look at the spinny-pig-umbrella. The style had to be from Hingashi, was this from some sort of stall there? He would have to take a look himself. And he could just watch it spin all day. It was nice. Still, Rostik took care to listen for footsteps, to not seem foolish in front of Kaen.

Soon the promised footsteps came and Rostik pushed himself up from the floor. He was in the midst of straightening out his clothes as Kaen stepped in with a huff. From her bag, she pulled out some chairs and a table. “Eleone’s also going to make us some tea so she’ll drop by in a while with it,” she said, sitting down. “So shoot. What’s going on?”

Rostik cleared his throat. “How to start...” he said, fidgeting with his hands. “You all know I was raised in Garlemald, yes?”

“Mmmhmm. And that you were tortured for being a vagabond who just wandered from place to place trying to do good, regardless of who they were.”

“Right,” he took a deep breath at that. “Well, I guess what I wanted to talk about is less about that and more about...well, uh, those guys we are fighting against. The Auri adoptees of Gaius.”

Kaen sat up straighter in her chair but did not say anything. Rostik took this as a sign to continue. “In some ways, they were like I was. I was adopted by a kind soul, a teacher in Garlemald. She was so careful, in so many ways. I watched her publicly teach the Garlean doctrine but then teach me other things privately at home. Things I was sworn secretly to keep.”

“That...does not sound like Baelsar, honestly. Other than the adoptee part.”

Rostik scratched the back of his head. Of course he was getting it wrong but he could maybe lead her into it. “I guess there is that difference. I saw a distinction between the kindness of a person and believing it to be a part of the Empire as a whole. I could be a perfect image of a ‘savage’ to people but those Auri, they had each other to shelter behind. And they weren’t taken too far away from their home.”

“Also Baelsar’s, quite sadly, always made it a point to integrate the conquered and give them hope of a new life in the Empire, instead of outright scorn and hatred.”

Rostik nodded. “I guess what’s eating at me is...just seeing those Auri fight so desperately for a nation that does not care for them. And...I’m disappointed.”

Kaen gave a small smile at that. “Well you certainly aren’t the first to have had sympathy for our enemies. Things are never as clear-cut as they seem.”

A flicker of rage flared up in Rostik. She hit the nail on the head and yet- “Then how come you all seem so ready to cut these children down!?” He remembered the general chatter after the death of Milisandia. Few of the company members seemed to worry or care about the Auri they were facing, other than that they considered them another of Gaius’s mistakes.

He was not surprised to see anger flare up in Kaen’s eyes. “You really haven’t fought for the sake of protecting a home, haven’t you? Or maybe you didn’t realize the true cruelty of war until that point? You lived within Ala Mhigan resistance camps. I’m certain they would have told you about the heartbreak of hurting your own. But it is what you do. Because otherwise, you are dead.”

He knew. He knew he knew and he himself killed them and yet-

“Having sympathy is good, but there’s not a lot we can even do,” Kaen continued.

He still had the image of Cecetu looking up at the G-Warrior with shimmering eyes. The screams of those whose minds were overtaken so that they could become something other than themselves.

His screams as they tore at something about him.

“Rostik? Rostik?!” Kaen said, but her voice was faint. His body was beginning to seize up at the sheer memory. He thought he was free, he thought he was free and yet-

The soothing pull of healing magic. Rostik felt his body slacken and he breathed out heavily. Breathe in, and out. Focus. In and out, in and out. Help the magic along.

He felt Kaen’s hand on her shoulder. “You okay?” she asked.

“After effects of what they tried to do to me,” Rostik said. “They are much better than they once were but sometimes if I just linger on the wrong thing...”

A knock interrupted his statement. “I have tea here! Rostik, you okay?” Eleone asked, muffled through the door. Kaen also glanced at him, wondering.

“I’m...fine. Tea would be welcome, please.” Rostik sat back up in his chair, as the Elezen entered and sat the tea tray on the table. Even poured him a cup. He graciously drank it, carefully making sure to savor the taste. Bitter, as it were. He sighed as he set the cup down. “Thank you, Eleone.” She politely nodded but the worried expression wasn’t easily erased.

Kaen had sat back down in her chair. She took a breath and after that asked, “Do you want to continue our discussion or switch to a different topic?”

Rostik glanced on down at the tea and swished the leaves around. Things didn’t feel settled yet, but he should continue on until they were. But maybe a different topic first. “That decoration over there,” he said, gesturing towards the umbrella-pig. “Where did you find that?”

“Oh that? Heavensturn celebration gift. They give us so many decorations and I tend to stick them in here for want of doing anything else with them.” The topic continued in the same vein for some time, enough to calm Rostik’s frayed nerves. It would not be the end of the fraught discussion, but for the time being, it was enough.

#rostik asyngi #rostik stevasch #kaen paniphar #eleone fauchetemps #ffxivwrite2020 #HI COMPLEX FEELINGS OF THE WEAPON SERIES

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chrysalispen · 5 years

Text

ii. sullied, the whole world's fountains;

AO3 Link

In the wake of the primal's fury came the rain.

Hail and icy water, more suited to the autumn months than midsummer, beat down upon the ragtag remnants of the command pavilion, dripping in chilly rivulets from the slick oilcloth of the tents and turning the ground into freezing sludge. The back end of the storm cell that had set a raging blizzard upon the whole of Coerthas had ripped open from the influx of aether, confounding most serious rescue efforts.

The leaders of the realm's city-states and their military commanders huddled beneath the windbreak (for at this point it was little else), each in their turn staring out over the near-opaque haze of mist and smoke that blanketed what remained of the Carteneau Flats.

No one spoke in a voice louder than a murmur, rousing themselves only when messengers entered the area to deliver news. Dalamud's descent had disrupted and disabled most linkpearl communications, so the Grand Companies were in most cases reduced to runners on chocobo relaying messages from post to post.

Though none were thus far willing to say so aloud, most of the assembled were waiting for the storm's fury to lessen sufficiently that the Flats could be safely traversed and the dead could be cleared from the blasted wastes below. Any observer passing might notice that no voices were raised-- but just as was the case among the rank and file, the tension was so thick one could practically cut it.

Presently an elezen man in the bright yellow of the Twin Serpents knelt before Kan-E-Senna, proffering a sealed envelope. Conversation among the Padjal's circle faded from a subdued buzz to silence as they watched her take the document, crack open the seal, and unfold the parchment.

Pain twisted its way across her face as she read its contents, tilting the corners of her lips into a trembling downward arch.

"Seedseer?" Raubahn Aldynn said gently.

The big Ala Mhigan had a voice that carried and a laugh she could pick out in a room of thousands, but even he had been reduced by sorrow and shock to a shell of himself, forced to watch the endless parade of death along with the rest of them: the corses of friends and countrymen and adventurers who had fought beneath his banner, bundled into sackcloth and laid on a cart. There was some small hope for those who had been in the drop zone, but it was very small indeed.

He tried again.

"What news from the Twelveswood?"

Kan-E-Senna released a sigh that carried the weight of an entire nation.

"The Twelveswood burns," she said. "And Gridania fares little better. Fully half the city was destroyed. This missive is from Brother E-Sumi-Yan; he and the others go to quell the Greenwrath as best they are able. The Shroud will become nigh-uninhabitable in short order, I fear."

"Bloodydamned imperials," Raubahn swore, slamming one heavy fist on the nearby table. After a moment to collect himself, he continued in a quieter tone: "Will it spread, do you think? The fire?"

"The Wailers have protocols to build firebreaks. They are deploying 'round the large settlements." She folded the parchment and tucked it into her robes. "The worst of it is near the border with Mor Dhona, but this rain may serve to hold it at bay---provided the wind does not change course."

"If we need to deploy-"

"We have no one left here to spare as it is. I will have Vorsaile send people back to the Shroud as we are able, but we must needs take stock of what numbers remain." She turned to the runner, her kind smile strained at the edges. "Send word back to Bowlord Levin: Pray have the Black Boars aid in evacuations, and bolster all defenses at the firebreaks. They must hold, at all costs."

Timidly the youngster queried:

"What of the Garleans? They-"

"Will cause us no mischief now. The imperials have their own worries, likely to match our own. Now go, with all haste."

Hastily sketching a salute, the runner scurried out of the pavilion and back towards the post where he'd tied off his chocobo. She waited until he was out of eyesight before sinking into her chair and burying her face in her hands.

"Would that Louisoix's binding had worked," she murmured. "We won the day, but the cost..."

"I know."

"What should become of us all, if the Black Wolf--"

She didn't need to finish her question. They had brought their combined strength to bear against one, one imperial legion, and it was all the Grand Companies had been able to do just to hold them at Carteneau while the adventurers (which ones? her mind cried, overtaxed and frustrated and on the verge of panic. which adventurers?) had confronted Nael van Darnus at Rivenroad.

All here were painfully aware that the Eorzean Alliance had fought the Empire to a draw only because the XIVth Imperial Legion had elected not to take the field alongside her steel and magitek-clad brethren. Should they now choose to take advantage of the decimation Dalamud had wrought, Eorzea was in no position to offer even token resistance.

How will we recover? We have barely the means to see to the pieces that are left, much less-

Kan-E-Senna forced herself to push that thought away.

Time enough later to worry about Gaius van Baelsar. As she had said to the boy, the Black Wolf had his own problems, and she would not compound their woes by inviting trouble.

"Our own numbers were badly culled by the primal, and I don't doubt that Nanamo will have a damage report of her own for me soon," Raubahn said, into the prolonged silence. "But if there is aught the Flames can do to help, you have merely to say the word. U'ldah repays her debts. You know that."

"I know, General. Thank you." Her hands dropped into her lap, where they fidgeted anxiously for lack of Claustrum's smooth, reassuring grip. She'd propped the staff against the side of the tent where it stood still alongside the assortment of weapons from the others. "...I will be taking a unit into the Flats at cockcrow to search for survivors and heal the wounded."

"The storm will make it slow going."

"Even so, it is the least I can do. I would not sit here in relative comfort whilst others die in our names."

He did not protest further; both of them knew it would fall upon deaf ears.

"Very well. Merlwyb and I will take count of our people and our supplies while you do that," he said, glancing across the tents to where Admiral Bloefhiswyn stood in hushed conversation with her storm marshals. "We do have one more important matter to discuss before we adjourn tonight, and that's what to do with any prisoners."

"We are taking imperial prisoners if able, yes? That was what we decided?"

Raubahn grimaced. Her question was pointed, and for good reason; the argument on this point had been much louder when it had actually happened, and Kan-E-Senna had won only because Louisoix Leveilleur and the others had backed her (no doubt hoping for further intelligence-gathering), and now-

Now the wise old Sharlayan was gone.

Thal's balls, he thought dismally. So many faces gone or missing since the drop. And no time to take stock of the dead right now, much less scrape together the personnel for search parties.

"Aye, that's what we decided, right enough. You already know my opinion of it and Merlwyb's likewise, but we gave our word and we'll not go back on it now. She's passed the order along down her ranks and I've passed it down mine. For better or worse, if we find any of the enemy alive, we'll take them into custody where possible."

"Good."

"Mind you, I've told them if there's any too far gone or too hostile-" He stopped at her pained expression. "...I know, I know. But you are well aware these are likelihoods, Kan-E, and I'd rather not risk getting more of our people killed than we already have."

"Don't see what the point is in taking prisoners," Merlwyb said flatly, joining them at the table at last. Her storm-grey eyes fairly snapped with ire and her gait was a long and decisive stride; just as Raubahn's laugh could be heard in a crowd, Admiral Bloefhiswyn's very presence could fill a room on its own.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a waste of manpower, if we're just going to have them all swing from the hangman's noose the second they get back to the cities," she continued, leaning her weight against the other side of the war table with one hip and folding her arms across her chest. "I suppose it's not very honorable of us, but lining up the VIIth Legion on a gibbet is as good a warning shot as any to fire across van Baelsar's bow."

"No, Admiral," Kan-E-Senna said firmly. "I will not be a party to any such thing. No public executions."

Her blunt statement of dissent, as calm as it was quiet, cut through the agitated chatter of the gathering. As ever, she rarely raised her voice, but then she rarely found it necessary. Though the Padjal appeared young and delicate, all assembled in this room knew that the impression was a false one.

Even so, Merlwyb's expression grew positively thunderous.

"The White Raven dropped a swiving moon on our heads and we're supposed to what--let his forces frolic through the fields all the way back to Garlemald? To regroup so they can finish the job? You've seen the devastation!"

"I will be receiving a very close and personal view of it tomorrow morning. Far more than I shall ever want to see." She looked at them all in turn, her leaf-green eyes solemn. "I still say no. These people are prisoners of war and will be treated accordingly."

"War criminals, more like," the roegadyn snapped. She shoved her seat backwards in a gesture of frustration and braced her arms on the table's surface as she leaned forward. "And the distinction hardly matters."

"Seedseer, as much as I'd like to argue otherwise, she has the right of it. 'Tis not like the people of the realm will see it the way you do." Raubahn's rough-hewn face was pale, drawn, and haggard, for all that his words were carefully measured. "Should the enemy not suffer some consequence for the havoc they have wrought, we will be seen as ineffective--if not outright sympathetic to the Empire. Well you know that could cause trouble for all of us down the line."

"The majority of these soldiers were conscripts given little choice in the matter. To force them to-"

"People are going to expect-"

"...To force conscripts, Merlwyb," she repeated patiently over the angry interjection, "to pay with their lives for a circumstance they could not control goes beyond mere dishonor. It would be naught but cruelty, not to mention the very barbarism of which the Empire accuses us so freely. Such an act would only play into their propaganda."

"If Limsa gave a tinker's damn about the Empire's opinions of any of us," came the flat, matter-of-fact response, "we'd not have spent the last score of years and more harrying their patrols on open water."

She'd half expected that answer and couldn't help a smile. Still, it faded quickly as she returned to the matter at hand.

"Very well, then can we not agree there has been more than enough bloodshed on Nael van Darnus' account? On both sides?"

"Surely you don't believe the VIIth would have shown any of us the same compassion?"

"Of course they wouldn't ha-"

"Or," Merlwyb continued, "that the people suffering and dying for this folly will be satisfied with anything short of Garlean blood? Reparations must be made."

"And they will be made. But not like this, I beg you. Both of you." Kan-E-Senna cast a glance over Raubahn's shoulder, peering through the partially open tent flap to the cratered wasteland that had once been such an open, fertile field. Wreckage and earth were still burning in places below the cliffsides despite the pouring rain. "I harbor no more love for the Empire than either of you. But I look to what must be done in the wake of this disaster. What our people will need most desperately now, and in the coming days and weeks, is food. Shelter. Medical attention. What they do not need is a violent public spectacle, no matter how much their anger demands it."

"Then what do you propose?"

"Work-release, of course," she said simply, as if the answer were obvious. "We make of them wards of the city-states and set them to a labor of our choosing, then free them once their time has been served. They can help with rebuilding efforts. I suspect we shall need all the hands and backs we can find, and now is not the time to be selective."

Silence fell over the tent, then-- but Merlwyb was finally offering a slow nod of acknowledgement.

"A certain justice in that," she said, her concession somewhat gruff but no longer heavy with outrage. "They helped break Eorzea, so their punishment would be to help fix it."

Kan-E-Senna was far from ignorant of the particulars of statesmanship, and she knew that they should at least understand that aspect of her proposal, if naught else. As she'd hoped, it had struck true. The Admiral was, if not exactly mollified, a bit less eager for vengeance, at least in the immediate sense.

"That said, it's not likely that all of the prisoners are going to be conscripts," Raubahn pointed out. "There'll be purebloods among them too- true Garleans, not just the poor sods forced to fight under the ivory banner. Most of that lot aren't going to be grateful or cooperative no matter what we do, and I can't say I'm comfortable with the notion of a bunch of zealots walking free."

"I said nothing about letting any of them walk free, much less those like to remain loyal to the Empire regardless of circumstance." Kan-E-Senna left out a soft exhalation, relief lessening the furrowed lines that worry and fatigue had carved into an otherwise youthful face. "However, even in their case I do not think it fair-minded to condemn all for the obstinacy of a few. We will do what needs must, of course, but I would not put them all to the sword sight unseen."

The big man shook his head, but his expression was one of capitulation. Merlwyb wore a wry smile.

"I think you're being dangerously softhearted," she said. "But for the sake of argument, I suppose we can make the attempt."

"An attempt is all I ask. Despite our differences, they too are people." Kan-E-Senna's answering smile was serene. "And if I have learned naught else, it is that sometimes people can surprise you."

~*~

"Miserable bloody weather," Bryngeim Ahrmbraena muttered.

With an annoyed sigh the Seawolf woman braced one heavy boot against a mud-covered rock and wiped away a mixture of sweat, grime, and rainwater from her brow. In this weather about all the gesture did was move the dirt around her face. Mor Dhona's humidity was harsh enough in midsummer, but she'd vastly preferred the cooling canopy of the rainforest to the blasted waste it had become in so short a time.

As she took a moment to catch her breath, she watched the faces of the half-dozen men and women who followed her, their own faces pale and pinched with exhaustion -- all of them were running on next to no sleep, herself included -- and squinted into the smoke and mist and the sheets of cold rain to scry for any signs of life. For the last four bells, every now and then someone would catch a movement out of the corner of one eye only to be disappointed when it was just a battle standard or the bloodied ruff of a dead chocobo that had caught the northerly winds.

"Ma'am?" asked the yellow-clad Duskwight archer at her side, taking note of her scowl. Bryngeim glanced back over at him, then once again to the sorry lot trudging at her back, and wiped another handful of cold water from her face before adjusting the heavy axe resting on her shoulder.

"Ah, 'tis naught, Idront, pay me no mind. I was woolgathering for a moment. You haven't seen anything?"

The man's brow furrowed and he shook his head. Drops of cold rainwater flickered off the corners of his ears with the motion, but he barely seemed to notice. "No, ma'am. Nothing yet. Might be a good idea to spread the search out a bit."

"Hm. See if we can find anyone we might have missed? Not a bad idea."

"Yes'm. There's a sector a few yalms off-" he gestured to the vague suggestion of a shape through the mist, "-that isn't tagged yet."

It had been her idea to take a strip of bright-colored cloth from... repurposed Grand Company tabards, tie them to a piece of wood or any other bit of debris that might serve as a marker, and thrust them into the ground at set intervals to mark areas that had already been searched and cleared.

Some had thought it ghoulish, but to Bryngeim's mind the dead were hardly able to make use of the fabric; better they be used to enable the survival of the living.

"All right. Just keep your eyes open. Don't stray from line of sight." For all they knew the enemy was still out there, looking for likely 'savages' to cull. "Call if you need us. And if you come across anyone too far gone..."

She trailed off, unwilling to finish the sentence. Idront looked away from her, the protrusion in his throat bobbing visibly when he swallowed at the implication of her words- but he gave a short, resolute nod before striding off into the wet haze. While they all agreed that it would be the height of cruelty to give anyone false hope, that didn't mean any of them relished the idea of putting down one of their own.

Of all those who had survived the crimson moon's descent, a few hundred survivors among the combined Grand Company units were able-bodied enough to take on active duty. Bryngeim's captain in the Foreign Levy had relinquished his command; his last act had been to suggest that each squad should take quadrants of those portions of the field that were still passable and search for survivors.

The surviving commanders in the Maelstrom had enthusiastically agreed to the notion, and for the last twenty-seven bells they'd been sending units out in shifts. What had truly amazed her was the way all of them, without really much discussion, had cobbled together what functioning units they could until further notice.

Thus far, they'd only managed to clear a small segment of the area a quarter-malm beyond the cliff where the interim camp had been struck. All of the reformed units were now taking turns looking for more survivors, with mostly middling success. They were to check every corse on the field for signs of life, without exception. Many allies had been trapped underneath destroyed machina, or beneath the dead themselves: too injured to walk under their own power but perhaps still able to be saved by the few remaining healers if their hurts were tended quickly enough.

It was dirty, grim, and thankless work, for all it was necessary. Every minute of every bell counted: every breath spent in idleness a breath that might be stolen from an injured ally awaiting rescue.

And further searches were becoming nigh impossible, now that the weather had taken such a poor turn. The temperature had plummeted in the space of the last eight bells, and a supercell had blown over Silvertear Lake, part of a massive front that scouts said was dumping snow on Coerthas in the middle of the damned summer, seemingly out of nowhere.

Worse, the storm had broken open over the Flats on the latter side of their shift. Had there been a better outcome they'd all be back at the campground seeking shelter in the mess pavilion with a pint and a bowl of whatever currently passed for rations until the worst of the storm had passed. But the sky wasn't going to stop pissing rain just because she didn't like it.

In the meantime, night was falling fast and the haze from the rain and lingering smoke had made visibility even worse.

By the Navigator, we'd be that lucky to find even one person as things are now-

There was a tug on her sleeve.

"Oi, Bryn."

"Hn?"

K'luhia Zhisi, a fellow privateer in the Limsan navy and sergeant as of twelve bells past via dead man's boots, was leaning in a conspiratorial sort of fashion towards her. The rogue's gaze drifted briefly towards the newcomers to their group before they settled on her friend's face.

"Guess I should've asked before, but... ye never said what the higher-ups wantin' us to do with the ruffmans?"

"Eh?"

"Garleans," she clarified. "Should we find any still breathin'. Are we supposed to... you know..."

Bryngeim faltered.

"Ah. That."

"Aye," K'luhia said with somewhat exaggerated patience, "that."

Shite. Obviously she'd meant to say something to the others as part of their briefing, since it was just as likely they'd find survivors from the enemy ranks as their own and they all needed to be prepared for that eventuality. But in the rush and the unending grind of the search and her haphazard attempts to fill her superior's shoes, compounded by encroaching exhaustion, she'd just... well.

Godsdamn it all, she'd forgotten to brief them about prisoners. Of all the basic things she could have forgot-

Twelve, L'sazha, why'd you have to go and get yourself killed?

Bryngeim pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head with a weariness that was in no wise an exaggeration, pushing past her grief. She had her orders regarding the imperial soldiers, all right---and she misliked them heartily, and she knew the others were like to favor them even less, but there was no help for it now.

"Brass says put down any that're too hostile or too wounded, but otherwise we're to take prisoners back to the camp and hold them until they can be moved."

As expected, a fierce scowl creased her underling's brow, nearly matching her own. "What- why?"

"You never mind the 'why', Lu. Ain't ours to be asking."

"The hells are we saving 'em for?!" K'luhia fumed, her ears flattened against her head with her displeasure. "They're murderers, thousands of times over! They deserve worse than death! If I were in charge I'd-"

"Sergeant." She saw the woman's twitching tail and ignored it. "You have your orders. Don't make me repeat them."

The rogue made something like a feral growl in the back of her throat but otherwise kept her retort to herself, sheathing the dagger in her right hand with an almost savage thrust.

In truth, Bryngeim wished she could agree aloud, but doing so would only undermine what little authority she had. She could not fault her subordinate for her anger. The breadth of her own grief and fury seemed nigh boundless and she didn't for a moment think she was the only one.

How many good men and women had they lost? Her own captain and best friend lay dying slowly and painfully in the Alliance's makeshift infirmary, his body burned nigh beyond recognition by Bahamut's unholy fires, beyond saving even by magical means, and he was but one of many. Scores more had died to the Empire's damnable war machine. Already there were rumors trickling down from the command pavilions that debris from the fallen Dalamud had laid waste to entire villages, that parts of the Twelveswood were on fire, that Limsa had partially collapsed in on itself--even noncombatants hadn't been safe.

How many more were they going to lose? To weather? To time?

"Lu, look-" she began, but before she could continue there was a shout some few yalms distant:

"Ma'am! Captain Ahrmbraena, ma'am, come quickly!"

#chrysalispen writes #reborn by fire #yet another self indulgent WoL backstory fic #ffxiv writing

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