sorceress

Meiko had tried to find Thancred after he stormed off, but when that man wanted to vanish without a trace, no one could stop him. 

Was Y’shtola completely right about his feelings over Minnie? Yes. Did they need to round off their overdue reunion with an argument? She didn’t think so. It had been frustrating to hear how the three senior Scions had been estranged from each other prior to her arrival, but she chose not to make it her business unless it interfered with them returning to the Source. For now, it hadn’t. She was at least glad to see Y’shtola and Urianger working together on that tablet; Thancred would return when he was done with his brooding.

Like herdin’ bloody gaelicats, she thought. She was seated in the middle of Slitherbough, watching her wee brother running between members of the Night’s Blessed offering to do errands and chores as he often did. By the end of the business in Doma, she had concluded it was some sort of anxiety-soothing habit of his. 

All the same, it was a relief to be able to have him in sight; for Meiko, it had been a helish three weeks between her unintended solo fight against Elizenos and finding that whatever-it-was in the Crystal Tower. For him, yoinked away just before Zenos’ announced appearance on the battlefield, it had been a year. Just a bit less than Alphinaud and Alisaie. Hearing that had fucked her up, too.

Even thinking about it gave her a headache. She pinched the bridge of her nose and squeezed her eyes shut to try and soothe it, ignoring the faint high-pitched ringing in her ears. There was just so much to do. To think about. While they labored away here, the Garlean Empire could attack Eorzea again at any time. Yes, there were grumblings of discontent within the providences, but that was barely a comfort. In addition to that, the Scions own bodies – save for her own –could also only last so long. Poor Krile, working tirelessly just to keep their hearts beating … how long could she keep that up before it took a fatal toll on her?

She knew she could have reassured herself if she returned briefly to the Source. She could do it, a least according to the Exarch, seeing as how she was the only one of them summoned properly… but she hadn’t. She would if they really needed her to, but it didn’t feel right coming back without the rest of them. She couldn’t –

“How fair thee, Meiko?”

The Viera looked up, jolted from her thoughts. Urianger could be strangely stealthy at times. Had the pixies taught him that? Or Thancred?

“Doin’ fine,” she murmured, watching him step towards the nearby cauldron to fetch himself a bowl of stew from the village’s dinner pot. It had cooled significantly since being put out when they first arrived, but it was the kind of meal that could be good warm or cold. She imagined he had enough aetheric know-how to heat it up if he needed. “Did Master Matoya finally kick you out?”

Urianger chuckled and shook his head, helping himself to a large spoonful. “Nay, not quite yet. I only hath decided to taketh a short break for a meal. Then I shall return to our work.”

Meiko wanted to ask on the progress of the tablet, but she knew Urianger would give her a lot of details she wouldn’t understand. Instead, she glanced back towards the doors that led to Y’shtola’s room.

“She eatin’ in her room then?”

“The lady insisted on forgoing her meal.” He moved to sit himself on the ground to eat. “At least for now.”

“Uh-huh.” Meiko frowned. Then she stood up,  moving to fill another bowl from the pot. “Well, if Tataru were here, she’d not stand for that shite. So m’goin’ to risk insistin’ otherwise to the lady myself.”

“Shall thee?” Urianger mused. “I wish you luck.”

“Aye.” 

Once upon a time, Meiko had been far too intimidated by Y’shtola to even think about engaging with the Archon in conversations outside of Scion business, let alone risk disagreeing with her.  It was a combination of the Miqo’te’s general no-nonsense mien (not unlike her and Hiko’s adoptive mother) and the fact that she was so much more vastly intelligent and well-spoken and everything that reminded Meiko of what she wasn’t. But that skittishness had gave away to regret when the Scions had fallen into their death-like slumber – she could have done more, she could have been more for all of them, rather than allow A’kihiko to play the hero alone. Rather than sink into the background whenever she could, or run off to the Golden Saucer to cope with the reality of their many burdens…

She hesitated, checking to make sure she had included a spoon with the bowl of lukewarm stew she had come to deliver – she had, should she have brought water as well? no, don’t overthink it – before knocking thrice on the door. When Y’shtola bid her come in, she did so, trying to come across as casual possible:

Y’shtola found herself not seconds ago absorbed in the correlations between ronkan iconography and language that were etched into the relic. Deciphering was simply an act of placing the often cryptic dialect into something palpable. Though, at the behest of a familiar face not seen in years, Y’shtola allows the disruption.

“No more peculiar than the validity of your assertion.” She says initially, touching at the pages of an open tome adjacent to the tablet before closing it. She smiles regardless after the outward musing beckoning her company further into the chamber. “If truth be told, I suspect that Runar may request you bear the task, less he perform it himself.” Not that she considered it anything more than an occurrence of his knack for worry. If it had been him, she may warrant it be left on any available surface in an effort to retain focus -- time was never so forgiving. However, she wouldn’t bare the mantle of ignorance to this reoccurring eventuality, nor the person bringing to her attention, this time at least.

If the bells tolled further in her desire for discovery, the possibility of missing the hour of Runar’s stew would have passed unknowingly and Urianger’s departure only spoke to the same. He, being of mind to take a break, had clearly signified the time that had passed and a realization that she had let “only one more moment” turn in to several more moments passing.