Two Heads Are Better Than One
Endwalker Spoilers.
Seventh Astral Era
Ishgard, Steps of Faith
Second Dawn of the Final Days
A child of Ishgard sits atop a pile of rubble, surrounded by their fallen brothers and sisters in arms. Only one other companion yet breathes - an almost identical figure were it not for the fox mask, ears, and nine tails that they had sported. The figure stands behind the purple-haired Ishgardian, applying ointment and some bandages.
“You know we’re stuck together now, right?”
“Mmhm.”
“And you’re not bothered by that?
“Do I really have a choice to not be bothered?”
“Ahaha! I guess not. But I thought I’d ask anyway.”
“Oh, you’re being polite now? You? The noisy little prick who takes every opportunity to fuck with me?”
“Hey, that’s not fair! I don’t take every opportunity, just…most of them.”
“And that’s better…how?”
“Simple. The breaks lull you into a false sense of security so it’s funnier when I fuck with you again. Ahahaha-ARGH! Hey, be careful! That’s an open wound…”
“Really should have known better than to provoke the person providing you with medical care.”
“You have a horrible bedside manner, you know that?”
“Oh grow up and suck it up. We’ve been through worse.” “Mmmh…worse, really? Our countrymen turn into eldritch beasts and start tearing the populace apart, and you think we’ve been through worse?”
“Your countrymen. And yes, ruining your father’s garden.” “Our countrymen, you’re one of us now. And…point taken.”
The masked figure finishes their work, securing some surgical gauze against the Ishgardian’s side. Some screaming is heard from the Gates of Judgment as droves of Coerthan citizens accompanied by remnants of a few scattered guard remnants desperately attempt to keep the citizens together, all the while driving several blasphemies back. The Ishgardian sighs, picking up their twin katanas before rising once more.
“Tell me straight doc, how bad is it?”
“Manageable for what we’re about to do. You’ll live.”
“That’s what I thought, but I thought a second opinion would be prudent.” “Finally, showing a little sense in that lust-addled brain of yours, Gale?”
“I have my moments Zephyr~”
“I really wish you had more moments like that.”
“Then I’d just be you, wouldn’t I?”
“Good. Means I’d have to worry less.” “Awww, you’re worried?”
“I’m worried for myself. If you die, I die. Remember?”
“Sure sure, keep pretending that’s why you worry.”
“Has anyone ever told you how insufferable you are?”
“Every day of my life~”
The Ishgardian takes a deep breath. There’s blood already on several parts of their body - some theirs, most from their fallen comrades. The gash that had just been recently treated went wide, but thankfully not deep. Another scar to add to the collection, should they survive today. A reminder to honor the sacrifices that the many knights of House Amante had made today. Several dead at their feet, many more injured and carted away - much to their protestations. They wondered if their most devoted knight was recovering well. Dior was most likely begging to be on the field with them again…they just had to go shielding Gale a second time. That was two that they owed Dior now.
The crowd manages to reach the halfway point of the bridge - where Ishgard’s most prodigal child had decided to make their stand. Whether they saw the masked figure bleeding dark aether or not was no longer important to them. Someone was watching over, that was all that mattered. Zephyr raises their own blades, standing next to the errant heir Amante.
“One stride left, Gale.”
“Two strides right, Zephyr.”
“Mmh. Good kill. Two strokes on my end, and this looks just like the fodder too. Am I getting slow?”
“No, you’re doing fine. They’re tougher than they look. What a pain.”
“At least they’re still big, right?” “Worse when they’re small, you’ve got a way smaller margin of error.”
“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.”
“This again? Is this really the time? When we’re fighting for our lives?”
“This-tssyaaa!-is the perfect time! Considering nothing is guaranteed, it might be prudent to get some things off our chests.”
“I think we should focus on the matter at hand.” “Well I think we should air it out before things actually start to get difficult!”
The two swordsmen enter a state of battle flow. Like a pair of ballerinas they dance across the field, felling creatures left and right in perfect sync. When Gale turns, so does Zephyr. When Zephyr strikes, so does Gale. The duo steals the show, outmaneuvering and outpacing the blasphemies at every turn, cutting a path for the poor souls trying to seek refuge from the oncoming storm. Every now and then one of Zephyr’s tails picks a stray spear off the ground and hurls it towards an opponent - only for Gale to kick off of the weapons haft and propel themself one of the creatures that dared to take to the skies, driving the polearm deeper into their opponent’s skull in the process.
“You are reckless Gale.”
“And you are enabling it. Answer the question?”
“Will you value your life while you fight if I do?”
“Yes.”
“No, I’m not bothered. In truth, you are amusing.”
“Aha! So you do like me!”
“You’re putting words in my mouth. You are simply just a very good distraction for my entertainment.”
“Mmhm, sure. I believe you, you-oh.”
The ground shakes. A larger figure appears from the Gates of Judgment, the size of a great wyrm. Only…wrong. With several heads that held several eyes, hand-like wings grasping at the sky, and a giant, gaping maw where their chest cavity was supposed to be. The creature roars, revealing the many teeth that lay inside its chest as the world shook once more from the sheer might of its cries. The swordsmen rush the creature down, knowing that must be done, but at the last second the blasphemy channels a blast of energy from its mouth that lands at Gale’s and Zephyr’s feet sending the pair careening backwards into a pile of rubble. Gale rubs their head as they attempt to reorient themself, before getting up once more.
“Ngg…shit. My head…just had to be the size of a fucking house huh?”
“Your head? Fuck…my head too. Sometimes I hate sharing a body with you.”
“That wasn’t my fault this time! Look, if you have a complaint, bring it up after this. You’ll thank this body after we’re through."
“...Gale, we’re probably going to die on this bridge. You know that, right?” “No actually, I don’t. I don’t plan on dying here, and neither do you. But if you’re so worried, you can always leave me here! If I’m simply a fun amusement, I don’t think dying constitutes good entertainment anyway.”
“You know I physically can’t leave you.”
“Oh really? Cry me a river then. Maybe it’ll freeze over fast enough so that thing can slip over it and fall off the side of the bridge.”
The horrid amalgamation rears its many heads and stretches its grotesque wings. One step after the other, it approaches the two battered swordsmen - the last line of defense before the monstrosity reaches the city proper. Then, it’d be all up to whatever defenses the temple knights managed to muster while they set off on this fool’s errand. Hopefully, they bought Ishgard enough time to make a difference.
“And I wouldn’t want to leave you either!”
“Right. Because you-”
“-yes I care! That's why I always tell you to be careful. It’s why I always scold you when you act so damn reckless all the time, why I constantly remind you to get enough sleep and begrudgingly tell you to go meet with your friends under the guise that I am annoyed with all of your banter. I like your banter! But I like it more when you’re not sulking all the time and replaying trauma in your mind!”
“...Zephyr I-”
“I only have little snippets. Tiny little pieces of who I was before, of my humanity. And I didn’t care about the even less that I had when I was drifting from host to host for the longest time. But when I’m with you, when I get to see you live your life and enjoy the world? Enjoy company? I feel like I’m getting back something that I lost a long, long time ago. And I hated it at first! I hated being able to feel things again because it made everything so fucking difficult. You were a meal ticket! Nothing more, nothing less! And now here I am caring about some mortal who can’t be bothered to care for themself half the time.”
A dreadful feeling fills the air. A low, rumbling noise emanates from the creature’s chest-maw, and malevolent light begins to coalesce at the center of it. The dragon-blasphemy channels what could only be described as malice itself. Too large - too much to get out of the way in time. Indeed, it was as if it meant to obliterate the very bridge - no - the city itself.
“It’s why it hurts me when you put yourself down and consign yourself to your sheets for the day. No, Gale. I can’t leave you. And even if I could? I wouldn’t! Because you know what? I’d rather die here with you than live one more miserable moment of a voidsent’s existence, constantly paranoid, never being able to trust another person for fear of being consumed! It’s a wretched life, and I would rather die here with purpose. You are my only friend, my only family in this world Gale, and I did not know that I needed that so badly until you irritated me into loving you. So with whatever little time we have left, do not imply that I would leave you. I’ve lost everything once already. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Gale is left speechless. All they can do is look up at the creature - their doom - and dig their heels into the stone bricks that carried their people home for centuries on end. In defiance of fate. Always in defiance of fate.
“Then I guess that means that dying isn’t on the table today.”
“Gale it’s-”
“Useless? Sure, maybe. Maybe we’re going to die here anyway. But isn’t it better to try, to go kicking and screaming, to refuse our last meal? If we are going to do anything together then I want to resist together. I was born with a death sentence Zephyr. I wasn’t going to last another year before I met you. But I kept trying - I kept going on because I believed it was worth trying. And now I’m here, over half a decade later, and with almost another decade left. More if I find a cure. And it was tiring. It was painful, I cried so many nights because of how much it hurt to just exist. To have moments I couldn’t control my body. Moments where the pain was searing, where I felt like I was on fire and that my soul was to be branded with nothing but suffering. I wanted to give up so…so badly so many times. But I had people who I loved counting on me. So I grit my teeth and I kept going. In spite of the world.”
Gale takes a step forward, towards the blasphemy.
“So I’m going to keep living. In pure spite of this thing, to protect the people that I love. And if I die? Fine. I’ll make it a good death. I’ll make it mean something. I’ll burn so bright that the sight of my damaged soul is etched into the stars for all eternity. And I want to do that with you, Zephyr. So…please. Fight with me. One last time?”
The energies that the creature had collected reach critical mass. And as it flaps its wings and takes to the sky, and coils its warped body back as it reels to strike, Zephyr removes their mask and steps forward. A familiar face reveals itself underneath. A face Zephyr had forgotten.
A face that Gale sees every morning in the mirror.
“One last time. With you, Gale.”
The pair dash forward together. Wind in their step and with a blast of levin, the duo kick off from the ground and make one final charge towards the maw - the belly of the beast - to try and save their homeland. With grim resolve, they welcome their end.
The sound of what seems to be a cannon resonates far across the bridge, and an arrow streaks through the air and buries itself in the light that the monster had channeled. The malevolent energies explode in the creature’s chest mouth, and it roars in pain and anger at this interference. In a berserk rage its many heads flail about, snapping and swiping at the two airborne swordsmen who fend them off as best they can. One of its many-eyed skulls is undaunted by their resistance and swings at the two like a bat, aiming to swat them off the bridge into the cruel embrace of the void.
Yet a javelin soars through the air - brilliant and ornate, a wolf’s head decorated close to its tip. The weapon sinks into the blasphemy’s head, before exploding - then flying in reverse, disappearing behind the two warriors. As the Child of Halone and Child of the Void land onto the ground once more, they retreat backwards quickly. To where Halone herself seemed to have intervened from.
The pair look back, and see several familiar faces.
“Most troublesome damn sibling I’ve ever had. Next time you’re off to do a heroic sacrifice Gale, do us all a fucking favor? Call me so I can kill you first and save us the trouble?”
“Ignore your sister. But she’s right Gale. Be nicer to yourself - I don’t want to only have a spear to remember my best friend by.”
“In the name of the Fury milord, I know you like to show off, but is this not a bit much?”
Gale presses their lips together, forming a thin line on their face. Zephyr looks at them, canting their head to the side, nine tails swishing slowly in concern. Then Gale begins to laugh, and Zephyr’s ears twitch at the sound. Then they begin to laugh too - a scene that perplexes the three standing behind them. More figures come pouring out from the Arc of the Worthy. All armed. All ready to fight.
“How very like us then. To put it all on ourselves.”
“Speak for yourself. You’re insufferable.”
“ Yes, and whose face are you wearing right now?”
“Shut up. I didn’t know.”
“Well now you know where you get it from. So. I suppose you know what I am thinking…?”
There is a long pause before Zephyr speaks.
“Apple pie after we mop the floor with this son of a bitch?”
“Read me perfectly.”
