#shit went wrong

Later that night

My feet aren’t moving, but I can feel wind on my face. My hands are numb but I know there is something around the wrists, holding them behind my back. I want to move and wriggle so I can get them under me - I could dislocate a shoulder and endure that pain if I could just get my hands infront of me. When I open my eyes, I am face down in the dirt and dust of an unwept floor made of rough hewn stone. In the blurry distance I can see two other figures, bound as I must be, the allag tech burning around their wrists and throats. Unlike them, I do not draw on my own aether, so I tentatively try and reach out to touch the world, forming the word for ‘ten’ in my mind clumsily. There’s nothing, not even a spark. My eyes slide closed briefly and I am struggling to stay calm. At least they are asleep, I am awake and fighting this terror that is sitting as a sickness in my throat. The smell of his sweat, the salt in the air, the pain in my wrists. I know I am shaking, I cannot control my body, the poison is doing work that I cannot fight. The antidote. Surely Mizuki... but she is half of Eorzea away, and she only made enough for Onuma and besides... ...if anyone came, it would be too late. Is that wind on my face? Wasn’t I just thinking about the wind? My eyes open again at the sound of footsteps, feet that come into view - flat soled shoes of a dark material, something similar to those that I use when I am working. I know, my voice wants to scream and say a thousand curses, my throat wants to summon all my rage and spit it at him. The Lethe poison holds me captive. Fingers entangle in my hair, one ear caught and my face is hauled out of the dirt as the figure crouches close by. The clothes aren’t rumpled today, they are clean and freshly pressed: he is neat and I am the mess. I stare at him with everything I have in my soul to defy him. His smile meets me, I once thought him so gentle and so beneath notice - like he was made to be forgotten. His eyes are cold though, brown and dead. “Morning,” Kisaile whispers, “You’re looking well, Ferai.” I can’t answer, my vocal chords lack the muscle control to form words. Instead I hiss something incoherent, making him laugh. “Ah, I’ve waited for this for a long, long time. Since the sun you came back from those caves, wearing that expression you were taught. Since the sun my sister never did.” Sister. I stare at him, a single tear escaping. I can’t keep fighting this terror; it was only going to get worse. This is my absolute nightmare and I am trapped. No windows to jump out of, nowhere to run to, nowhere to escape. Sister. Kaene Valinsse. Shadeshift. Sister. That explained why Kisaile could use the same ability. Why he had done this, why...