#rottenaether

Final Fantasy XIV: SHADOWBRINGERS

@rottenaether:

Splitting up from time to time was inevitable, what with the Warrior of Light having the weight of the whole world on his shoulders, while Estinien did his best to support the man, travelling all over Eorzea to fulfill quests for the Scions. The half-dragon had not liked it when they parted ways once more, but Vali had been firm in his wish to go to Rhalgr’s Reach to support the Ala Mhigan Resistance while Estinien was supposed to track down the eyes of Nidhogg. Even though the Warrior of Light and the former Azure Dragoon were partners now, they knew they could not act ignorant and stay inseparable. But little did Estinien know what a grave mistake he had made when he finally made his way to Rhalgr’s Reach to reunite with Vali. Worry and even fear settled down heavily in his chest when he made his way through the damaged Camp. The heavy stench of death was in the air, paired with the scent of smoke of a camp almost being burned to the ground. How could this be? Vali was here to support them, he never would have let this happen. Unless.. Vali. Where was he? His steps quickened as he made his way through the unfamiliar territory, drawing the gazes of everyone that was not familiar with the Warrior of Light’s companion, but it seemed the injured and hopeless people could barely care for this strange character walking around. “I am looking for the Warrior of Light. Where is he?!”, Estinien asked the person closest to him, his voice a deep growling sound. When the person pointed at a building he did not say another word and simply walked away, making his way towards the infirmary. This was not good. What had happened here? When he entered Vali’s room his head was spinning for a moment, the scent of blood overwhelming in this little confined space and Estinien paused for a moment when he saw Vali sitting in a bed, the usually white sheets stained with dried blood. “Vali..”, the half-dragon whispers before stepping forward, making his arrival known by catching the wrist of the mage’s right hand with his own. Their eyes met and Estinien felt the familiar sting of guilt in his chest as he took in the state of his partner; he was in miserable shape and all Estinien could think was: I should have been here to prevent this. “What happened to you? Who did this to you?”

Dull umber eyes flash open with a surfeit of frustrated anger, Vali baring his teeth at the intruder he assumed was yet another healer trying to quell his stubborn insistence to struggle alone. No small part of him knew he was acting childish and making what was already a strenuous aftermath even harder to bear with his tantrum, but he couldn't hold it back. He was livid, his heart ready to burst at the seams keeping him closed up.

It had been on Arrzaneth's orders that they survey the activity at Castellum Velodyna, he and Marshal Tarupin had joined forced to deliver a decisive blow against the empire by laying claim to that pivotal supply point. And in doing so, they had walked straight into a trap- Desperate to celebrate a victory after, what- Enlisting a handful of eager, but untrained youths, sons and daughters of miners and quarriers. Vali had promised he wouldn't be signing them off to Thal's realm, to take what little hope of the future their forebears still had left.

Now that promise was broken, yet another lie spun to keep their war raging against an enemy that proved too large and vast to leave even the smallest of dents in their seamless armor.

His gaze is bare with shame and turmoil once he recognizes whose steely, yet caring grasp stills him from further harm he doesn't care enough about to mind inflicting upon his already weak and recuperating form.

Who did this to you?

Vali's features contort and harden, his line of sight breaking from Estinien's searching and concerned expression. His jaw tenses, molars grinding audibly as his remaining and unsullied fingers ball into a fist once more. A single name falls from his lips, his normally baritone voice low but thready and dripping with contempt.

"Zenos, he-" the mage begins, inhaling a sharp breath as the tension to his muscles going into rictus causes a newly spiking flare up of pain.

He didn't want the Elezen to see him like this- Out of control, overly emotional, weak... A piss-poor leader, the once indefatigable champion now defeated and crippled, of little use to begin with even before he was mangled.

"So many dead, more than half of the survivors hanging on by little more than a prayer, or stubborn willpower. Y'shtola, too-" he admits, finally feeling the weight of his own guilt, the lack of adrenaline's drained him of the manic elation he'd once come alive with during his duel with the Viceroy. All that was left was what he had willingly chosen to ignore: his mistakes made in over-zealous drive, the loss of new and even old comrades, his selfish endangerment of people he called friends.