#noxwarrior

she’s grown accustomed to his company - just as much as the scions are part of her group, so is ardbert, even if she is the only one capable of seeing him. when in private she postpones sleep to talk to him, finding that the other warrior of light hides quite the other sides behind that stoic and stern face she had met back in the source. amaya simply accepts him as part of her life now, perhaps even more than she lets herself believe.

the burden of the title of Her champion is something not many can imagine and she may talk to friends about it but... for the first time, there is someone who truly understands the grasp of it. she talks about how she had thought her life would be, of her old wishes, all cast aside to throw herself into battle.

if they do not talk about her adventures, she usually listens to his. hearing stories of his group, has a strange feeling to it. there is something incredibly cruel to see someone smile with sadness due to a happy memory ...because in the end all that happiness would lead to tragedy. every victory has only made the great loss later even more terrible. but what comfort can be offered to a ghost? there are no graves to visit, no great memorial because him and his companions are viewed as villains... all she can offer is to listen. to remember.

it’s after the defeat of emet-selch that she seeks a more quiet moment away from the celebrations, simply enjoying the cold night air. ardbert is next to her, silent as well - there is not much need to speak. but she does notice it when his gaze suddenly trails away, how a familiar smile colors his face - sad, and... perhaps even a bit flustered. amaya understands and just laughs, her hand touching his, not minding the light it causes.

“your friends?” he does not need to vocalize his answer, when he looks at her she knows she’s been right. “ardbert.” the au ra notions him to lean a bit down, only for her to press her forehead against his. “go. I can manage... it’s fine if you rest.” with a smile she presses a kiss to his head. eyes closed as she tries to hide the tears. “I’ll tell people here the truth about you - about them.” just as she had promised emet-selch she would not forget his people, she would not forget her friend and the warriors of old. 

30. ...as comfort

it is a sight most unexpected ; the spiritual form coming toward her at a pace she found to be quicker than that which she’s witnessed of him thus far . scarce time she has to react , one hand already raised to allow the black bandages to fall ‘round her neck would afford her time necessary to prepare for an incoming force in the way she most readily did – catching . hand falls from where it was poised by her collarbone , talons sculpted of ebony nails splayed outward as her palm opens toward his form – now mid-flight as he’d jumped once he’d reached striking distance to the Elezen . instinctive movement lowered her hips slightly , knees loosened as legs rooted with weight in her heels whilst her joints readied for impact .

it comes quickly , momentarily held breath released as though his weight against her ribcage &. diaphragm had forced it from her . the hand which had been left by her side lifted in precise time , fingers readily curled as his form buckled against her own – she’d staggered back only a step , her momentary readiness enough to keep her standing tall . her stance would shift as the shock from his form hitting her own radiated outward &. beyond the physical confines of her body , both legs drawn underneath her as she returns to her full height . Aynur keeps her eyes ahead for moments more , &. her expression at last shifts from the unhidden surprise she’d felt only few heartbeats earlier to something far more wry .

ardbert is able to behold such emotion himself , proper , as at last she looks down . “ you realize how lucky you are , i trust , that i served as a knight for many years ? habits so ingrained to press my physical limits in daily exertions have allowed me to maintain my strength from then … it was our saving grace in your little stunt . or is it , mayhap , you thought myself flimsy as a magic - user ? i daresay it would have ended badly were my body not trained as ferociously as my mind … ” 

@noxwarrior​ said:  “We’ve spent our whole lives searching for a way to make a better world.” (x)

*•.¸◈

  This was... new. Mayhap it is his magicks, bringing the warrior of light to the first. There is some sort of... familiarity to this person. Well, they were ONCE a person. He can tell there is something wrong. Like a ghost, a fading memory. Something about them felt wrong. His own aether was closely woven with too many others now because of his attempt to call over his ‘hero’. Maybe this was a side effect. But something makes him wonder... Who is this? Their voice full of suffering, like to rival his own. Another tortured soul who should be dead, mayhap? 

BUT  HAVEN’T  LINES  BEEN  CROSSED  ALL  ALONG  ?   haven’t they been leaping over them without prejudice since the moment the exarch had pulled her over to the first?  one might wonder if there is a line nara  won’t  cross when it comes to the survival of those she cares for   ---   the survival of  everyone.   if there  is  such a line,   she’s certain she has yet to find it.   perhaps that makes her the wrong sort of person to lead this charge,  or perhaps it makes her the  only  one  capable.

the light within her splinters a little more each day,   and one day   ---   not so far off in the distance   ---   it will  shatter.   should she not do all in her power to prevent this tragedy before that day?

𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙑𝙔 𝙒𝘼𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙏 𝙏𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙀𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙈𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙇𝙀, for all it was worth. the days that have come and gone were mere inklings of the might have been and to the what could have been, but death was always a heavy burden. even more so when the deaths could have been avoided, that is if ramai was strong enough to carry each and every person out alive. but no, she could not and no, she would never. but each and every hand she has held to usher them a small loving prayer in the words of nhaama, may she guide you unto her loving bosom and may you find peace within the cradle of her light. 

she could feel the touch of wet warmth trace her skin, how they gently rolled over her scales just so they could kiss the ground in which they sought. silent she was as ramai could no longer voice her woes, and forever shall they remain hidden. but for once, gods be damned ... for once, let this stone cold heart weep, for she could feel the edges of her mind give way to her heart. and her heart  — and oh, how her heart desired to weep. but it is till she feels a gentle touch against her cheek, the brush against her horns in doing so that she opens her eyes in response. a dark gloved hand was in view through peripherals.

“So have I.” Ardbert wasn’t alone in feeling that way. It’d been over a thousand years since he’d last had any form of contact with anyone that wasn’t Lyna when she came around to visit. He was desperately touch-starved, in a way that wasn’t healthy. Not that he would ever say it aloud. It would be unbecoming of the Exarch to ever express such things, and so he didn’t. Instead, he adjusted his stance a little.