#nerine lyrant

She’d woken up in a cold sweat, still fully clothed, with the moonlight filtering in between the leaves of her plants. Her sleep had been fitful, but she only remembered the final dream. Running through Garamsythe on Revti, feeling the tunnels shake and explosions above as mortars fell, in some endless maze. Calling for Hatia, for Faol, for her companions of the Suncrest, hearing no reply. Seeing the waterways beginning to run red with blood, getting thick and viscous and sticky as if it were the substance itself.

Running, ever runninig.Never time to pause and rest, or think.

The explosions got louder.

A final roar, and the ceiling cracked above, and not only did the rocks fall, but blod with it, sliding down her throat and clogging her nose as she could feel herself crushed under the stone.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

“You! There! Viera!” Nerine’s breath hitched, her eyes searching desperately for her sister Hatia, lost to her in the crowd at the bazaar. No help would be incoming. And Nerine knew that sort of tone anywhere, the barking self-assuredness of Rabanastre’s occupiers. Her eyes squeezed closed, and she whispered a silent prayer, before forcing a pleasant smile to her face and she dutifully turned to the man demanding her attention. It masked her confusion

Not a guard...? Then what does he...?

“Ugh...we would have to clean you up...” She suppressed a flinch as this Garlean man, well-dressed in civilian clothes, reached forward and flipped an oily, sand-caked lock of hair between his fingers disdainfully. He snapped his fingers, and an attendant came to his elbow, a Dalmascan by birth as far as Nerine could tell, who held out a bag to her with a faintly trembling hand. She waited but a moment, before taking it cautiously, her eyes widening at the familiar weight and sound of gil.

“You will entertain my guests tonight. They’ll hardly believe one of your kind will be joining our party. Your payment. Come, girl.”

It was not a request, but a demand, as two more attendants came from the crowd around them, flanking her and leading her after the Garlean man. He was true to his word; Nerine was cleaned within an inch of her life, and sprayed with exotic scents and perfumed, dressed in fine, foreign silks...and sat on a lounge at a cocktail party, expected to do nothing but look mysterious and haughty, and entertain any conversations that came her way.

At evening’s end, she was bundled back into her street clothes, and dumped back in the bazaar by the attendants who took her, her gil pouch much heavier than when she had woken.

Time for me to catch up for this year... @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

The Verdant Feast was a yearly summer tradition in Revti, a celebration of the fruits and gifts of the Wood, culminating in the whole village joining together in dance, to show their appreciation of the woods that sustained them. Each Viera did her part, and the preparation was almost complete for this year. Almost.

Alja eyed down the shaft of her arrow, tip slowly tracking a hefty stag with ebony horns and azure pelt.As a hunter, she was expected to provide the game, and as the matriach’s daughter? It had best be impressive. Alja did not intend to disappoint.The stag raised its head in a sharp motion, and Alja held her breath, not daring to move an inch as it surveryed the surroundings, perhaps having caught scent of danger in the wind.

10 seconds...

20...

30...

The stag lowered his head once more, starting to graze upon the foliage, seemingy confident in his safety. Breath still held, Alja recited a quiet prayer in her head, before lining up her shot, and letting loose her arrow.

May your lifeblood return to feed the earth, and nourish all who dwell upon it...

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Aether pooled around Alja, Faol and Hatia as they spun, rising in pale green wisps from the earth and coiling around the trees of their clearing. The grass here had been worn away, likely by the trio of Viera currently dancing upon it, their bare feet striking the earth to a tune only the three seemed to hear.

Their silent beat seemed to reach a climax, and the girls twisted in close, entwinning their arms together as they did and pulled one another close. They ended with ragged breaths, foreheads pressed together, and there was one final pulse of aether, and wind blew through the boughs...before all returned to silence. It was Hatia who first broke the silence, brown eyes flicking open, then furrowing into a scowl. “Faol, you said this would work.”

The eldest sister turned her own eyes skyward, with a pensive hum. This response didn’t satisfy Hatia, who pulled away from the huddle, glaring up at the boughs accusingly. Faol was the next to step back, no longer listening to her sisters but to a voice only she could hear, carefully stepping around the perimeter of the clearing. Alja too, strained her ears, but it was Faol who was most closely tied to the words of the Wood, and all she could hear was the rustling of the wind through the leaves. Faol paused in her walk, before bursting into giggles, as a gust blasted through the boughs, and it seemed the branches of the closest trees almost reached down to her. She reached up to run her fingers over the bark of the closest, her tone full of mirth. “Hatia, sister, they tell me your heart wasn’t in it~”

Hatia bristled, and affixed her glare to the tree Faol had her hand to.

“When the trees have eyes, then they can pass judgement on my heart.”

After Talan had paid them for the work they did, Nerine had retreated quickly to her room, clicking the lock shut behind her. The whole mission, it had left her shaken. Lazily, she dumped her payment on her coffee table, a few gil coins falling into a forgotten cup of tea, before she retreated further, into the small section she had used as a bed room. Absently, she wondered if the company would have minded her turning a whole wall into a flourishing garden as she clambered into the bed, pressing her whole body close to the greenery.

We succeeded...

Her mind’s eye flashed back to Tovu, beaten and being supported on his feet by his companions, calling his fellow miners to arms. To Sela, taking the belt of bombs from her with determination in her eyes. To the fray they had thrown themselves in after the flaming man...nay, demon, had left.

And finally to the faces of those miners who survived, hugging them, hugging their compatriots. Thanking their group for giving them the opportunity. For stepping in to ensure their victory. Their joy, their gratitude. Their freedom.

Nerine choked back a quiet sob, a mixture of pain, relief and joy.

Tachi’s words leapt to her mind, about their homelands, their individual paths of liberation. Or...failure to, in Nerine’s case. That failure, again and again.

I talk a big game... No doubt he’d think as Hatia does, knowing everything.

Nerine did not know the Garamsythe Waterways as well as Hatia did. But still, she had to try. Hatia hadn’t come back last night. And with the Witch of Dalmasca lurking in the city...

Nerine didn’t want to think of it.

She took the way she knew; the twisting, turning path to the headquarters of Suncrest, the rebllion group they both worked for. Or had worked for, in Nerine’s case. She could still hear Hatia’s voice in her ears, dripping with venom, calling her a coward, before she stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

It was the last she would see her sister.

Skidding at a full run into where the base of operations had been...Nerine’s heart sunk. Alcoves once filled with materiel and people were empty. The main room was abandoned, larger pieces ofd furniture left behind, but obviously, there had been no struggle. A methodical packing of the required materials, and then the base abandoned.

And Hatia with it, no doubt...

Nerine felt the wax seal on her permit to live in Kugane had barely set before she had resolved to leave it.

The city itself...was fine. The culture was strange to her, yes, and not everyone spoke her language. But like Rabanastre, it was a melting pot, people from all walks could be found here, and if she felt homesick, she could find a vendor selling Dalmascan food, or find other refugees like herself. If it weren’t for that one thing, she could easily see herself settling here.

But that one thing was an insurmountable boundary, in her eyes.

Despite the goingson in Othard, despite the things she had begun to learn about the Empire’s doings further afield into Aldenard, despite hearing stories from those who had fled like her...Kugane maintained neutrality with Garlemald. They had an embassy. They were treated just the same as anyone else. And it grated on her, wore against her already frayed heart.

Alja had quietly slipped away from her sisters as night fell. She knew Hatia would have harsh words if she saw her cry, and though there would be no malice behind them, Alja’s heart was still raw.

They’d returned to the village, to find it aflame. Whether the Garlean bombardment that had fallen upon hit by design or chance, she would never know, but now, the only home she had known was burning. Faol was the first to spring into action, calmly listening to the voice of the Wood to guide her, to find the wounded, to help others escape. While Hatia and Alja had panicked, Faol remained unflappable. After saving as many as she could, she lead her sisters out into the depths of the forest, saving them too.

Her face buried in her arms, curled up sitting on the ground, she felt someone sit next to her. She needed no words to know it was Faol, as an arm wrapped around, she was pulled against Faol’s chest. They sat in relative silence for a while, until Alja’s tears were spent, before she lifted her head, red eyes meeting Faol’s pale pink.

“You’re torn, little one.”

Alja did not deny it, instead looking away in guilt. Faol hummed ever so slightly, before gently tilting Alja’s head back up with a finger.

“You know Hatia intends to leave. She hears only the roar of the flames of rage, it drowns out the Wood. And you know I must stay. Revti is not gone. It remains, here.”

She pressed that finger to Alja’s chest, over her heart.

“Our paths are set. But you, little one. You stand at our crossroads. You do not have long to decide, and I am sorry for that. But know. We are always together, no matter the distance.”

“...Will she hate me?”

The wind rustled through the boughs, and Faol gave Nerine a gentle smile, before leaning in to kiss her forehead.

“The Wood could never hate her daughters. Her heart breaks, she desperately longs for those who leave, but hate? Never.”

“Will you?”

“Our hearts are as one, little one. That’s a silly question.”

They stayed like that for a moment before, before Faol pressed a kiss to the top of Alja’s head, releasing her and standing.