#ffx14

When Elidibus stabs G’raha with whatever the hell that was, he remarked that G’raha’s soul was “surprisingly dense,” despite not having the Echo. Sooo... why is G’raha’s soul so dense?? I refuse to believe it was an offhand comment.

Does Elidibus not realize G’raha is from the Source (since everything rejoins there)? But... not everyone has a counterpart across the shards, right? So is G’raha also “X times rejoined”? Does that mean G’raha is extra special (not just Allagan special) like the WoL??

...Or is it because of the Tower? The royal blood? Is it because of all the light he was sucking up like a Slurpee? (I thought that got spit back into the sky tho)

Clink clink

Clink clink

Sound of clinking glass on wooden table and against each other filled the room. Crackling fireplace near your table exudes warmth, slowly lulling you into slumber. A bard sings beautifully, carefully  selected song emphasized his enchanting baritone. Your eyelids grew heavier by the seconds and would have gladly succumb to drowsiness if it weren't for company.

"So soon, partner? Never thought you're a lightweight." Estinien Wyrmblood's voice called you back into reality. A small hint of concern behind the smug tone and smile. Truly, he had been drinking stronger stuff than what you ordered. Yet, he showed no sign of drunkenness.  

You reached over to your wooden mug, half of it's content remain untouched. You thought of chugging the remaining liquid, but thought otherwise. Instead, you sipped your choice of libation slowly. Despite it being weaker compared to what your company been absorbing effortlessly, it burned your throat and stomach.  

Estinien reached for your mug and pressed it hard on the table. His message was clear as day, despite no words uttered. Cease.  

You thought otherwise, but Estinien's hawk-like glare stopped you from finishing your drink. Your ever elusive company finished your drink, having no qualm - or perhaps deliberately - pressing his lips on the rim of the mug. On the very spot where you pressed your own earlier. However, you were too intoxicated to comment on it.

"No need to force yourself. You don't have to drink everything they pour in the function. Just sip a small amount, or hell, pretend drinking it." Estinien slammed your mug on the table. "Besides, those fancy wines they serve there is just fruit flavored water."

"For you, perhaps, the things you drink."  you said weakly, groaning at incoming terrible hungover on the morrow. Tired as you are, the image of invitation with Dzemael insignia appeared in your mind. "Ishgard is still recovering from prolonged war, yet those Dzemaels want to hold party?"

"No need to understand the mind of those nobles. You could always refuse the invitation."

"Alphinaud is coming and The Twelve damn me if I let him enter a viper's nest by his lonesome." you adamantly refused the thought of leaving the young boy alone, not after Ul'dah.  

"That boy is better suited to deal with those vipers than we do." Estinien mulled over his own drink before chugging it, effortlessly still, though his cheeks started to flush. He opened his mouth to continue, but ceased without uttering one word.

Sensing his hesitation, you addressed him, "You can speak freely, partner."

The taller man sighed before continuing, "Isn't it too soon? After the wake…I mean."

"…mayhaps."

Silence. Weeping Count Edmont. One hand grasping his cane wearily, another at the edge of coffin. Artoriel remained still, his demeanor and countenance betrayed no emotion. Emmanelain's head hung low, his unkempt hair kept everyone from reading his emotion. Tear drops on the cold stone beneath.

You? What about you?

It was nothing but silence. Emptiness. You confronted the killer and ripped his heart out in cold blood. You felt nothing. You simply stared at the weeping father as the coffin was closed. The last thing you saw was Haurchefant's smiling face. Content for protecting you from a lethal assault. Alphinaud's hand warm on your back.

Warm?

You found Alphinaud sitting beside you, genuine concern on his face. The concern turned too soon into frown. However, it was directed towards Estinien on the other side of the table. Whatever they were fighting over didn't reach your ear as everything seemed to be blurry and distant. Few words you could hear was…

"…make…drink…you thinking?" "…asked…it" "you…recovering…too!" "…fretting…"

To your surprise, Alphinaud rested his head on your shoulder. His arm linked yours. Estinien moved over to your side of the table, one arm circling your waist in protective manner. You sighed contentedly.

Estinien, Alphinaud, Ysayle, and you would huddle together on bitterly cold nights in Dravanian wilderness. Ysayle and Estinien crowded both you and Alphinaud. Come snow and hailstorm, it would not beat the shared warmth. Despite the awkwardness, you thought the bond shared reminiscent of familial bond you never truly had.