#derpwrites

The Astrologian walks with a rapid pace, almost running over a hapless Elezen child in his haste towards the shop. He arrives, breath coming out in white puffs amidst the chill wind, and draws forth a pouch and deposits it on the counter. "Order... for... Kuru Kai..." he pants out. The store clerk raises a manicured brow at him before she shakes her head and moves to the back of the shop, returning with a set of boxes and handing it over to the Xaela. He eagerly takes it from her and leaves, hoping against all hope he isn't late. Must not keep her waiting

Where is he? she thinks, her metal boot tapping against the rock she stands on. She rolls her eyes at the Seeker currently enthralled with his wife, their purrs loud as they bask in the sun in each other's arms as their party awaits for her husband. Many more parties pass through and into the metal primal towering over them, and with each one her patience ever thin. She stands at attention, her ears alert for the telltale chirp of his chocobo, and soon enough she hears his bellow before she sees his form. The Astrologian waves, grinning from ear to ear, as he shouts, "I'm here! I'm here! Sorry I'm late!" The rest of their companions stand up and stretch their limbs as Kuru lands, picking up weapons deposited near their persons as Kezia stands there...  and stares.

"...What is that," she says, her voice as flat as the expression on her face. He looks at her with a tilt of his head.

"What is what?"

"...Is that a ribbon around your neck?" she asks, her brows furrowing underneath her fringe. Her lips know not which direction they want to move; whether they want to form a smile or a frown... "...You look utterly ridiculous..."

The Black Mage fixes him with a look before she succumbs to a fit of giggles, to which Kuru replies with an extravagant bow as the rest of their party follows suit. Even Kame, though she tries hard not to show it, turns away as a smile creeps on her face, and he can hear soft chuckling coming from her. He blinks as he hears naught from his wife, and as he turns to look at her he can feel his heart sink as he sees fingers pinching the bridge of her nose. His smile falters as he rushes to her side, worry making the smile on his face shift into a frown. "Is aught amiss...?" he asks gingerly. Uh-oh... did his plan backfire...?

"...N-no," she replies with a shaky voice. She lifts her head, smiling up at him as she lets out a soft laugh. "I'm just... glad I was worrying for nothing. Come, the sun is high and it'll be nightfall by the time we are done here," she says. To his surprise, she takes his hand to hers and pulls in earnest, following Mal's squeals of delight as she's carried into Alexander in her husband's arms.

He's glad they're bringing the rear, glad of the steam that greets them with a hiss as he looks down at Kezia with a soft knowing smile on his face.

Finally... at least I was able to return your smile after a fashion. If mine dressing like a fool is what it takes...

...Then I'll be the biggest fool there is in all of Eorzea.

Everything I do, everything that I am...

So much has happened between her and I’van that she had almost forgotten of the promise he had made to her that day. When the prospect of children was first discussed, he had expressed his denial towards it, believing himself incapable of becoming a suitable father. It had hurt her then, but eventually she realized there was more . He had been afraid he would have been unable to control the beast that resided within him, and he had not wanted to subject his children to see their father in such a state. She herself understood that, as she struggled with her own darkness that threatens to overtake her with each passing day. She dropped the subject since, though a small selfish part of her hoped he would find it within him to forgive himself.

So when the day came that I’van expressed he was ready, her happiness knew no bounds. She would have been more than fine with staying by his side, supporting him in any way she knew how, if only to show him just how much he meant to her. She wanted to assure him that she loved him, child or not, and that it was okay for him to lean against her should he falter.

The birth of her oldest child has since made her conflict more bearable. So happy was she during Ciara’s birth that she found more reason to keep her darkside in check. The whispers that caress her mind have since died down, replaced by the soft gentle murmurs she speaks to her daughter.

7. A drabble about a beloved one lost in a fight.

“Look out!“ comes the cry from the Elezen behind her. As she turns around, she sees Haurchefaunt’s back facing her as energy and metal collide. She shields her eye from the impact, and in her head she prays to Hydaelyn the Elezen knight’s shield holds steadfast.

The Mother Crystal answers her prayers not.

She stares wide-eyed at the spear of light that pierces through, sees the towering figure of the Elezen who sought to protect her fall before her. She stands there, frozen, and unable to comprehend what just occurred.

No… Haurche… Haurchefaunt…! comes the first coherent thought in her head. As the airship moves she finds herself rushing to the Elezen’s side, her limbs numb, her heart heavy. She looks at the wound he sustained in her stead, and she chokes back tears as she sees how not even a myriad of Physicks or Cures can mend his broken body. As Ser Aymeric hoists him up, Haurchefaunt reaches out to her.

“You… you are unharmed? F-Forgive me… I could not bear the thought of… of…” comes his weary question. He reaches out, and it’s all she can do to hold his hand tight, to reassure him that everything is going to be okay he’s going to be okay he’ll be fine he’s not going to die no no no

“Haurchefaunt…. I… I’m sorry…” she chokes as she lowers her head, tears stinging her eyes as she grasps his hand. She can feel it, how his aether wanes and ebbs, how his body gradually loses its ever present warmth it can’t happen this isn’t happening this is a nightmare.

“Do not cry for me Malkeria… don’t look at me so,” he says. She raises her head at his words, tears streaming down her eyes. How can he say that? Even as he lay dying, how is it he’s still concerned for her?

“Haurchefaunt…” comes her trembling response. Her grip around his hand tightens, as if the act will prolong him. Oh blessed Navigator, hear my plea… if you can hear me… please…

Please save him…

“My dear…” he murmurs. “Pray… smile for me. It suits you ever more so. I wish not to be the cause for your tears.”

It’s difficult. So so difficult to do so. She takes in a shuddering breath, and smiles for him. “Did you know, Haurchefaunt…?” she whispers. “I… love you, with all my heart…”

She sees the surprise in his eyes as the light gradually fades from it. He smiles back at her, and mouths his reply to her.

I loved you too

Grief. Pain. Loss. Emptiness. The bite of the frost wind is nothing to the cold she experiences as she feels his hand slack in her grip, and it’s then…

It’s then that she lets her voice match the pain that stabs her over and over again. She throws her head back, laughing deliriously as she looks over at her companions. Her eye glints with a manic light as she slowly rises, drawing her staff.

He’s gone.

Everything’s gone

What left have I?

Thistheirfaultkilleradicatedecimatekillthemall

They will pay

Her laughter ceases, though it echoes as she tilts her head and smiles at Aymeric and the others. A twisted smile. Ever so twisted and broken. “We need to head back… Ser Aymeric needs his rest,” comes her honeyed words. She walks over to the broken shield Haurchefaunt carried and picks it up, holding it close as she murmurs to herself. Her companions exchange apprehensive glances before they follow her out of the tower.

11. A drabble in which my muse is forced to fight against a loved one.

“No… you cannot… this cannot be…!” comes the pained cry of the Au Ra. The Keeper and the other Xaela merely smile at her as they take their stances, and before she can draw her staff, the Xaelan Monk lunges towards her as the Keeper throws a spell her way. She sobs as she pulls out her staff, narrowly dodging the spears of stone and flurry of blows directed to her.

“Pray… don’t you recognize me?!” she pleads as she casts a protective wall of aether around herself. She cries out as it shatters with two successive blows from the Monk, and she feels the ground leave her as she’s sent flying with a clean punch to the gut. She doubles over, and squints. She feels sharp pain in her side every time she draws breath.

Gods, is this how it’s going to end?

“Get ahold of yourself, they’re not real!” comes the shout from the Azure Dragoon. He picks her up and narrowly dodges the punch sent their way, parrying the fist that follows after and deflecting the barrage of sharpened rocks afterwards. Mal cries out, trying frantically to convey to him–

No, don’t hurt them! Please!

“Estinien, gods… don’t hurt them…!” she cries out. “Those are my parents…!”

The Azure Dragoon bops her head with the shaft of his lance as he growls low. “Fool of an Au Ra… fall not for their deceptions. Are these not the foes you’ve sought?!“ he hisses at her. She chokes back a sob and a groan of pain as he drops her to parry an attack from the Monk. “Get on your feet and fight! Fight, or die!”

She falters, the grip on her staff shaky, yet she knows Estinien. As much of a grouch as he is, she knows she can trust him. He’s just that kind of person.

Estinien jumps out of the way as a fireball takes his place, directing his spear towards the Keeper mage. Malkeria’s barrage of spells rain down on the Monk, drowning the cries she utters as she waves her staff about.

Keep your head clear. They’re not real. They’re not realtheycantpossiblyberealThey’re already dead. You know this. They couldn’t have survived.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            We must answer, we must fight                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              To defend our land                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          But what price must we pay                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               How much pain can we take?

Her eyes widen at I’van, her good eye running up and down her mate-to-be. A tinge of color splashes across her cheeks as she watches him fiddle with the cravat, and has to will herself away from watching him turn in place. She looks down at the garments given to her and promptly moves to a secluded area nearby. She holds up the dress tailored for her, and feels her breath leave her as her eye eagerly takes on the craftsmanship that went into the garments. She slips into it... and has to call for I’van to help her put on her veil. As he rounds the corner, he stops, and for a moment she wonders if she put the dress on wrong. Instead... she feels rough pads brush the hair out of her face as he leans down and places a soft kiss on her lips.

“You’re... beautiful,” he murmurs as they part, and the familiar coiling in her stomach stirs as she looks away, sputtering. He smiles at her reaction and leads them back to Claribel, who hands them the engraved and blessed rings and instructs them to embark on a journey to the marks of the Twelve, to emulate the actions of those who came before them. She inwardly groans at the thought of having to do so dressed the way they are, but a smile from I’van tells her this walk is not going to be as bad.

They make their way to the Conjurer’s Guild, and as they kneel before the massive rock with the Matron’s mark engraved on it, she feels a sense of calm wash over her. She breathes in the Gridanian air, and smiles as she looks over their next destination. Her eyes widen, and the airy feeling she has sinks as she feels dread, guilt, and regret all at once. She hesitates to smile at him as she lets herself go to the aether to teleport to Camp Tranquil.

She feels her eyes well up as she sees the vast expanse of the Black Shroud stretch out before her, nostalgia hitting her hard as she climbs aboard her Draught Chocobo. I’van clambers behind her, and she pauses as they make their way to the mark of the Builder. She feels tears sting the corner of her eyes, and it’s all she can do to make sure they’re not falling into the swamp. She leads them to a series of rocks and in an attempt to cheer herself up, she  shares stories of her as a young child, of spending lazy days atop this rock as she steals naps before her siblings find her.

The journey to Snakemolt comes to a momentary halt as something catches her eye. A small glint on the ground underneath some lavender bushes, an arrow head, draws the Black Mage closer. She hops off the chocobo and digs, and I’van stands by the shrubbery as she pulls out a dodo feather. She tells him it’s from the first kill she ever made, and remarks how her mother brought home a pack of the fowl and let them lose in the forest as a test for potential hunters. Memories wash over her as she replaces the feather back into its case, her smile serene as they pray before the mark of the Keeper.

“No...” comes the whisper from the Black Mage, her eye scanning the immediate area and stretch of trees near the Quarrymill. She quickly smiles and turns to I’van, who knows that look of horror anywhere. Loss. Incomprehensible loss. “It’s as if we never existed...”

She steers the chocobo’s reins and heads deeper into the Shroud, and they come to a halt as she sees grounds that belonged to her tribe overrun by Redbellies everywhere. Her silence concerns her companion, and it isn’t until he realizes she has gotten off the chocobo and sends a hapless scout to a fiery death that she is beside herself.

“Mal...!” comes his plea, uncharacteristic panic surging through him as he looks around for someone, anyone to come and bring her back to her senses.

“COME AT ME YOU WHORESONS!” she cries out as she fries another to a burning crisp, his companion beside himself as he fires several arrows in their direction. She swats the hapless arrows from their path and sends a few fire balls back in reply, and the man’s screams as he slowly burns alive sounds the horn from within the Redbelly Hive. As she prepares another wave of destruction on the poor sap cowering on the ground before them, I’van steps forward and stands between him and the Black Mage. If looks can kill, I’van’s sure he is dead from the venomous glare she is giving him.

“Step aside, I’van...”

“No. Mal, you need calm down! ”

“Calm down?! Calm down after enduring years of fending them off our lands? I will show these lowlifes they have done so for the last time... as I  swear I will rid any trace of them and scorch it off Eorzea!” she spits out. He winces at her words, but stands his ground.

“Do you think your family would have wanted this!? Would they have wanted you to do this for their sake? Think about it, Mal! Will this bring them back?!” he says. The forests come alive as Redbellies start to come down, and the Black Mage utters a small noise as the both hope on the chocobo and flee the area.

They arrive at a small clearing, the moonlight reflecting off the small spring they find. The Black Mage’s rage quells upon the sight, and is replaced by anguish, regret, and bittersweet nostalgia as she steps into the water, wading in its shallow depths. Tears streak down her cheeks as she closes her eyes, I’van following her closely. She spreads her arms wide, pausing as the silence between them grows.

“...My parents vowed here,” she starts with a shaky voice. As she turns, numerous fireflies emerge, and their small pulsing lights are distorted by passing water sprites. “I remember... my mother stood here.... and father... father was so surprised when she sang the song to him. The tribe was happy, you know? Even though she was still an outsider to them., they were happy for the both of them...”

I’van looks on as he listens to her tell her story, and before he can say anything else she walks out to the pond’s edge and clambers on the chocobo. He watches her as they make their way to the last spot she wishes to visit. The chocobo brings them to Urth’s gift, and it takes the Black Mage only a few short minutes to reach the clearing within the hidden expanse. She hops off the chocobo and sits down on the rock near the river, with I’van following suit.

“Maman took me here... to... change me, you know. Something... something about this spot...or I don’t know if it’s because of you...” she starts. “I feel... lighter... much moreso than today.”

“...Thank you...” she says.