VIRTUOS KNIGHT.

     There was a certain enchantment to seeing life again when she awoke here, though there had been an enchantment all it’s own to the lifestream too. She was granted passage to a life once more, and while there were things that ought scare them all here, certain threats she knew they were not being permitted all the information on, there was also a chance to start anew. There were cozy restaurants and bookstores she could busy herself in exploring, clothing and self-care options were out there to allow herself to take care of herself once more, even shops that had adorable little plush figures that- be still her heart- she would slowly collect each and every one if she could afford to.

      She does maintain a sense of duty, of purpose, that she ought figure out more of the way this world worked, and of what she might do to aid both herself and the masses when it came time to face any lurking threats or overwhelming difficulties that people might face here. So Ysayle keeps her head about her as she wonders for herself, noting important locations that could provide shelter, or provide necessary supplies. Still, she is enchanted by all this world has to offer, and does so quickly become enveloped in that once more as she begins to peer through the windows of the new shops she has approached. What she finds, though, is this most unexpected occurrence– yet she knows she is not the only one here from Eorzea, so perhaps this encounter was yet inevitable. This does not bar her some… joy at the recognition of Aymeric when she too turns her gaze to him.

     “I can say with complete confidence that it is indeed me. There are far worse ways one could fair in the afterlife, certainly one such as myself, so I cannot say I am doing unwell. But what of yourself?” What of Ishgard? Of Eorzea? She wants to ask all these things, the things she left behind in her moments of sacrifice, but she does not. Not now. She still thinks too little of herself to be deserving of the information. And she wonders for how he feels. Certainly to see a fallen ally walk once more is an astounding occurence, but was that all it was? All in due time, she supposed.

Far worse ways indeed. It was never prideful to be sticking one’s blade in the chest of another. Some sought thrill from fights, of course, but for Aymeric, as of late, it had been proved more tasking than that. Not that he didn’t enjoy a good fight, but of course, the meaning of both duty and nobility had become faded. He supposed, despite this concerning predicament that he was in, seeing Ysayle again, as daunting and impossible as it seemed, he decided to take as something good. Was he not blessed, by chance, with this meeting again? Aymeric knew it was better not to take such a thing for granted, after all, as he’d thought before, there were many words left unsaid, many truths still hidden. Aymeric had learned well to hold his tongue, but he always did have some vulnerability when it came to expressing emotion. He was happy, and it showed, despite how obscure this was. 

Aymeric said: “’Tis a blessing, I would think. Even if these circumstances are questionable, I wouldn’t push aside this chance to talk to you, Ysayle.” No, even before, Aymeric’s heart had always been more open to discussion than others. But, ruling Ishgard and tending to what the Ishgardians want was another matter entirely. After all, he’d found that it was impossible to keep everyone happy. But there was no use sitting on those thoughts, no use mulling over what had happened. Aymeric dared feel that if he did, he’d lose this chance.

His reflection was clearly visible, and then accompanied with another. A soft turn, and Aymeric’s eyes widened almost instantly. Could it be....? To what sorcery was this? Standing beside him, as thought their history had been rewritten, was a familiar face, and, in the space between them, the return of unspoken words. He found himself at a loss for words for a moment, before saying: “Ysayle. Is that you?”

What else was there to say in short of how much had gone through Aymeric’s mind? An apology, even, seemed inadequate right now. Instead, he offered a bow. One that was given with utmost respect. How odd after so many misfortunes, that he’d come across her once again. As impossible as the circumstance may seem, he didn’t question it. It was but another absurdity toppled onto another. Aymeric’s tone was deep and quiet. “.....I can see you have awoken here, too. How are you fairing?”

The situation that stood before him unwillingly put Aymeric in quite a tight spot. Of course it was no surprise that he was tense, the foreboding realisation that he was far away from Ishgard, and in the hands of a situation beyond his control, was no less taxing and concerning than governing a kingdom. Even this individual stood close to him was making him feel uneasy, however, considering what he’d gone through in the past, Aymeric loved to think this was nay in comparison. He was sure not to intrude or overstep any boundaries, despite being thankful that he still had his strength in tact, for the most part. He cleared his throat nonetheless, not in an obnoxious way, but more calmly, his expression stern, but his tone anything but hostile.

“If I may ask for your attention--” Aymeric began, looking onward and disregarding how different they seemed, along with an aura that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It took no fool to sense something off and be wary, but, what else was there to expect when thrust into something quite dire. Was it worth focusing in on little concerns as opposed to the bigger picture? “You seem quite as concerned as many are, I must say, unless I am just assuming. You wouldn’t happen to know anything more about this predicament, would you not? My apologies if I am overstepping here.”