#echopulse

 he had come a long way. there were things that would never heal. physical and emotional wounds that would be carried with him until he dies. when he first got here, he thought maybe he had died. but he was alive. he was still alive. and learning about what could, no... WOULD happen to aria and eorzea did naught but make him feel more useless. aria had been trying to teach him magic. to the best of her abilities. white magic she could help with. but he wanted to use both, like niall. even with his unstable aether. even when he hurt himself doing it. 

 maybe it was being without his broken body that allowed him to do more. or maybe it was just because he finally had something to live for. he never fit in with the scions, but he could try. for the woman that saved his life. 

 he had been mostly stuck in the crystarium. venturing outside its walls to train and help the guards, shoddy white magic he managed to pick up from aria. he wasn’t as skilled as her so it felt sloppy. but it eased pain. and when when he had to fight, he could use black magic. even if accidents happened. luckily, he hadn’t hurt anyone but himself and his targets yet. 

 he had returned from helping with some stray sin eaters. he was exhausted. magic still took a lot out of him. even with three years of intense practice. maybe he was pushing himself too hard. 

 and there, by the aetheryte plaza, he saw something. someone. a familiar face in the crowd. he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. it had to be. there was no way she.... the crystal exarch said she would come but he... never considered it would actually happen. he stops close to her, but distant enough to not be seen quickly. he doesn’t know what to say... she was alive. even though he knew that in the near future she would.... if they couldn’t stop this. 

 “You’re a healer, correct?” 

  There was an air of seriousness around him. Was he injured? Well, not badly. Maybe he had been careless as he faced off against just one too many foes. But it wasn’t HIM that needed healing. He doesn’t really know much about magic or healing. But he knows that a poor chocobo got hurt in the scuffle. Now the bird can’t really stand on its own. It’s not HIS bird, but still... 

 “Someone is hurt. I saw the staff and I assumed...”  

“Faith makes for terrible diplomacy. “

“... Aria?” His voice almost cracked saying her name, but he cleared his throat after a moment as he offered her a smile. It felt like such a silly thing for him to feel so shy around her, but it was hard to ignore the small voice that was telling him that he was bothering her when she needed to rest. 

But-- if he was truly a Scion now--

“Is... is there something we should be doing...?” Ever since he had awoken, no one had really seemed keen on taking him far from The Rising Stones.

@echopulse​ said:  5. for one muse to get hurt protecting the other 🥺

| protective starters & accepting |

╰◌♞

the sword was once so heavy to him that his arms shook and burned when he used it. only through the power of his darkness was he able to find the strength to lift it. but no more. it had become just as much a part of him as the ugliness that plagued his heart and mind. he has never truly been a hero. the one from the songs that saves lives and wants to help people. that was never roi. he was always clenched fists and rage. despair and emptiness. despite what they chanted. despite it all. roi was only a killer. a monster. a weapon. just like the sword in his hands. 

but there was one thing he did have, aside from his ‘gift’ and his strength. it was his ability to take pain. no. not the emotional sort. he crumbled under that. but physical pain was something he was used to. his battle scarred body and soul could take more punishment than anyone he knew. 

which is why he acts without thinking. aria looked so small compared to the magitek armor. he knows she is strong, but with just a staff she looks frail. and he doesn’t think she can move in time. his lungs burn as he runs, as if the sword in his hands was as light as a feather. and before the sword in the metal monstrosity’s hands can collide with her, he is there. 

 the sound of metal on metal crashes through the air. the force of which the bastard brought down his weapon hits him hard. and in the span of a few seconds, he feels incredible pain in his right arm. he cries out, though the pain seems to go numb almost instantly. his sword flies from his hands, and it takes far too much strength to stay standing. his entire body trembled. 

“R-run...! Aria...!” 

 the machina moves to hit him with the sword a second time, and he only barely managers to move out of the way. his arm is broken. and another stab of pain shoots through him. he winces, the armor moving the sword to hit him with the blunt side of the weapon with force. this sends him to the ground, rolling pathetically close to where his sword had fallen. 

 the blow knocked the wind out of him and pain paralyzed him. for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. he chokes, a metallic taste filling his mouth as crimson leaves his lips. he can’t move. his arm and at least two of his ribs could be broken. his head is swimming from the pain. if he could just.... focus....!

he tries to stand, but can’t even rise from his prone position. useless...! powerless...! if only he could cast a spell.... he doesn’t have any sort of crystal focus. but perhaps he could use himself... no... his sword! he can still remember how to cast spells. 

 his left hand reaches for the discarded weapon. with almost all the strength he has, he forces the blade into the ground and pulls himself to his knees. his body screams at him to stop. the pain threatens to pull him into unconsciousness. 

 a good luck charm fashioned to the hilt of his sword. a crystal from a staff he was given as a gift back when he was a mage, he tries to focus aether onto it. reciting the old spell, he sends flames racing over the armor. aria had already damaged it a fair amount. he keeps casting the same spell until his energy fades. he doesn’t even know how long it takes for the thing to stop moving or if his spells did anything but distract it while aria finished it. 

 he looks toward his ally. she is okay. at least, he thinks she is through his blurry vision. the hint of a smile upon his lips for a moment before he chokes on more blood. gods, was he dying? 

 injured and drained of aether, the world fades to black for a moment. and only the stabbing pain of his broken ribs pull him back as he loses his grip on the sword and crashes into the dirt. 

╰◌♞

 He had been close to death. Close to losing his mind. Collapsed in the sand and ill. How long could someone with barely any experience survive on the few stolen resources they could get their hands on? How long until the beasts or soldiers managed to lay him low? He pushed toward survival because it was all he had. But in the brief moment, under the scorching desert sun, he had made peace with the fact that he was going to die. Whether it be his poor physical health, his weakened aether, or merely exhaustion. He had found it impossible to force himself to his feet. He laid there, curling into a pathetic ball to protect his eyes from the sand and sun. Next thing he knew, he was in some sort of encampment. 

 Wearing ill-fitting clothes that he didn’t recognize, he did notice several of his wounds were covered and otherwise stitched up. Had the empire found him? His hands shoot to his neck, where the collar used to sit before he managed to get it off (with only a few painful attempts) but there was nothing but his rough and scarred skin. If they had him, they would put it back on... right? 

 He forces himself out of the cot he was placed on, quickly collapsing onto his hands and knees. A groan leaves his mouth. His body is still too weak. Even the panic can’t convince him to move with haste. But he tries nonetheless. He manages to force himself to his feet, but after a few steps, he crashes to the ground again. This time, his body pleads with him to STOP. 

A forgotten memory resurfaces.

A pulse rises even higher.

In ECHO Pulse stories, truths are revealed and destinies intertwine.

🎧 Watch now:

A voice lost in the void.

A pulse that refuses to fade away.

In this story, reality crumbles and secrets surface.

Follow the voice. Find the truth.

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