The Dragoon’s Curse: Enlightenment (1)
He was standing atop the highest spire in Ishgard, with the wind wrapping itself around him like a lover. Reinhardt looked down at the sea of towers and roofs beneath him; if he squinted he could just barely make out the streets.
You could see them if you let me in a little more…
“We have issues, remember?” Reinhardt said. He looked up; flying just a few feet in front of him was his inner dragon. Unable to sleep after his shift had ended, Reinhardt had opted for some meditation. Two months into having his drachen mail and soulstone, and he and his dragon were still at a partial impasse. Partial being that when they were fighting or flying they got along quite well, but when it came to anything else…
I am fine. You are the one with the issues. With a hiss, Reinhardt’s dragon undulated in the air, flying closer. Anger, fear, frustration-I am fine. You are not.
“I’m not alone in my anger.” Reinhardt said. The fingers of his right hand gripped his Gale Bog tightly. “You’re angry too.” Though from what he couldn’t tell…the curse, possibly? But with Nidhogg defeated, that should have lessened…right? Nobody knew for certain, and the one person he could speak with on the matter-Reinhardt had no access to at the moment…and he wasn’t that skilled in meditation that he could try to reach out to Vahn. He only knew enough to center himself and to enter his own mind…where in theory, he could work though his problems with his other self.
You would be angry too, if you found yourself stuck with an idiot for life.
“If I’m an idiot, what does that make you?” Reinhardt shot back. The blue-white dragon hissed, its frills going up and stiffening. Thunder rumbled, and Reinhardt looked around him. The sky was starting to darken, clouds rolling in…
See? That’s what happens when you get upset.
“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Reinhardt closed his eyes, struggling to keep control. Always, always whenever he tried to have a conversation with the godsdamnned scalekin, it always ended up with them sniping each other. Gods, how did Vahn get along with something that hated him?
…I don’t hate you. The admission came out of nowhere, and Reinhardt’s eyes flew open. His dragon had settled down on a spire near him, having coiled itself around it. I…dislike you, but I do not hate you. I want to hate you, but that would…be bad for the both of us.
“Understatement of the year.” Reinhardt said. His dragon looked at him for several moments.
I...do not understand you. It finally said. This city, it is nothing but bad memories for you. So many bad mortals, with very few good ones. It has beaten you, and has tried to kill you on more than one occasion. When I first started to awaken inside you, it was on the wave of a bad memory. Why do you not do the smart thing, and just walk away? Even the one you profess love for as if he were blood-kin tried to kill you, how do you not know he will not try again? Now it was Reinhardt’s turn to be silent for several moments. Then he exhaled, looking down at the city.
“…Because it’s what you said. There are good people here.” He said. “I met them. They saved me. They...they gave me my dream back. They’ve always had my best interests at heart…and…and I have to trust them.”
And what was your dream?
“…This.” Reinhardt’s voice was a whisper. “I wanted this. I wanted to be a Knight Dragoon.” Unbidden, the memory of a battered clockwork doll of Kain Highwind seemed to shimmer into life by his feet. “I wanted…want to protect the people of this city. From the ones who couldn’t protect themselves to even the ones who don’t deserve protection…because it’s what a knight does. They protect and serve the people.” He took a deep breath and looked into the pitch-black eyes of his inner dragon. “So for me to do that…to keep working past the bad memories, to create happier ones, I…I have to trust them, trust the city. And for me to do that…I can’t have you whispering in my mind that I cannot trust them.” His dragon did not answer, but for a brief moment, Reinhardt could have sworn he’d seen a brief spark of white in those eyes…
The sound of a chocobo ‘kwehing’ made Reinhardt jerk -and his grip on the mindscape around him loosened. Reality was breaking in, and Reinhardt opened his eyes to look at the dirty wall, he was in the small inn-room he’d rented in Tailfeather. His body was stiff from having been locked in one position for so long. And it felt as if something inside his chest was throbbing…Reinhardt put a hand over his heart, and then blinked as he felt dampness on his face. Lifting his other hand, he felt tears spilling from his eyes.
I…I’m crying? But it didn’t feel as if he was hurting or afraid. I…I…what is this? It felt as if something was lifting from him, like poison expelling from a wound. The tears felt clean, and Reinhardt hastily scrubbed at his face, attempting to get a grip. But it was no good, as they kept coming…
