She felt it the moment she woke up – though taking into consideration the way it seemed to linger, she would not be surprised to learn that odd sensation had been chasing her dreams away throughout the night, rendering her sleep so restless she barely had it in her to get off bed. Lying on her back, she remained absolutely still for half a bell, staring at the ceiling as if it could provide any manner of answer. Why did her bones feel heavier, her limbs weak? A ship gone adrift, lost in the ocean, dark clouds looming over it; for some reason, the imagery refused to leave her mind, and she wondered whether it was just another dream lost as she crossed the threshold to the waking world.
Still the ominous scene would keep on haunting her thoughts, numbing her senses to her surroundings. There was something about it she couldn’t quite grasp, some detail that would escape her the moment she thought she had it. Breakfast was left mostly untouched, and her lover’s touch didn’t quite reach her, body and soul somehow disconnected. He worried; that much was clear in the way he sought her gaze, his hand meeting hers with a gentleness most would deem foreign to a Xaela – just as most would not expect the soft sincerity with which she replied to his unspoken question easily read in his features.
“I don’t know.”
It was pointless to deny something was off, even if there was no apparent reason. As the morning unraveled before them, slow and thick, she could see how he kept an eye on her. “You don’t think that’s it, do you?”, he would ask at a certain point, as they inspected armor and weapons that required repairs. It. The Beast sleeping inside, the main source of her worries for the longest time, one she had confided to him when all that brought them together was a strong sense of camaraderie – or at least all that kept him around. But no, it wasn’t it; the thing coiled in the pit of her stomach was the very opposite of the Beast, draining her fire.
Fire. The word whispered some manner of secret in her ear, and yet she couldn’t quite understand what it meant.
She worked hammer, chisels and tongs effortlessly, relying on muscle memory as her mind insisted on wandering, often finding its way back to deadly calm waters tinged gray by the clouds above. Something was missing, she decided, and the thing nestled in her guts stretched and reached to her throat, suffocating. Under her lover’s mindful gaze, she stepped away from the forge, moving outside as if the open air would make it easier to breathe. Her steps were slow, one foot dragged before the other, until she finally made it to the shoreline, her warm skin covered in goosebumps after meeting the chilly wind blowing from the sea.
There was a storm brewing in the horizon, its gray undertones slowly taking over the skies above.
And that was when she finally realized.
“It’s Fiery Sky”, she said in a small, empty voice as soon as she felt his quiet presence by her side.
She knew he would understand; the bond he shared with his brother was even stronger, nothing ever quite tearing them apart. Without a word, he passed an arm around her shoulders, slowly guiding her closer to him, into a gentle embrace – and though she gladly gave into it, her gaze refused to leave the brewing storm.
The sky and the sea always meet in the end. We’re not that different, are we?
In truth, they weren’t. Her older sister knew no boundaries, just as the red tainted sky she was born under, embodying both storm and eruptions – whereas Silent Sea lived up to her name, a usual quiet, even calming presence, the real maelstrom of her soul never quite reaching the surface.
The sisters could not be more different at a first sight, and still there was a fine line where their hearts and minds would meet – one she had been deliberately avoiding for the best part of her life. It was a defensive stance, that much she knew, but now she wondered what exactly was she trying to protect herself from.
Should you miss home, don’t you dare look back; there’s the horizon just ahead of you.
Words that once felt both odd and unbecoming now rang in her ears in a whole different way. She was the one who was meant to leave – the second born, the defective one, the one who refused to embrace her full potential. Fiery Sky, on the other hand…
“She was supposed to stay there. But she’s gone.”
He held her in an even tighter embrace, as she seemed to shrink in his arms. She felt the weight of his chin gently resting on her head, his whole body working as an anchor for her weary mind. Somehow, she knew it was over and that it was a matter of days until word reached her – perhaps a moon or two since the skies over Abalathia’s Spine burned bright for the last time.
(And still, she feared, the seabed still roared, something else awakening underneath.)
repulsive || hideous || ugly || not attractive || unappealing || not unattractive || meh || no preference || ok || mildly attractive || nice looking || cute || adorable || attractive || pleasant on the eyes || good looking || hot || sexy || beautiful || gorgeous || hot damn || would tap that || perfect || godlike || holy fuck there are no words
not if they were the last person on earth and the world was ending || fuck no! || never || no way || not likely || not sure || indifferent || I’m asexual || maybe || probably || it depends || fairly likely || likely || yeah sure || yes || would tap that || hell yes || fuck yes! || wishing that could happen right now || as many times as possible || we are already having sex
Level of Friendship:
never in a million years || worst of enemies || enemies || rivals || indifferent || neutral || acquaintance || friendly toward each other || casual friends || friends || good friends || best friends || fuck buddies || bosom buddies || practically the same person || would die for them || true friends || my only friend ||
First impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
Current impression of them:
I hate them so much || I don’t like them || I don’t trust them || they annoy me || they’re weird || I’m indifferent || meh || they seem alright || they’re growing on me || truce || I think I like them || I like them || I’m not sure if I trust them || I trust them || they’re cool || they’re genuine || I think we’re going to get along || I really like them || I think I’m in love || oh fuck they’re hot || I love them
How good of a kisser:
worst kisser ever || terrible || bad || awkward || just okay || alright || pretty good || good || makes me moan || excellent || exciting || oh god they’re good || I dream about it || fucking amazing || absolute perfection || we haven’t kissed
A demon, one could say as their gaze met the vague silhouette in the distance. Tall as few were, too slender for a Roegadyn, and yet clearly all too savage for the civilized Elezen, challenging the peiste viciously.
The horns, Silent Sea realized after coming a few steps closer, were no adorned helmet. Much like the tail that whipped about in the same manner of a cornered viper, those were natural – and at that, it dawned on her. It was a demon indeed, or so the folk would speak of those who came from the Far East, whispers taking over Saphire Avenue and the alleyways of Ul'dah.
Arms folded as she observed the fight – a mere spectator for a change –, she tried to remember the name of that people, but even as it seemed to dance on the tip of her tongue, it was gone the moment she tried to grasp it. It was curious to see, though, how gossip evolved and details were added to the point the tale would bear no resemblance to the original story. Judging by the sword and shield he wielded, that man was certainly with the gladiators; hardly a threat to the commonfolk.
His skills, however, were remarkable – better yet, how he poured his very soul in killing. It was clear in the way he moved, in every shout and roar before the blows. He was no slayer, he sought no glory in fight. It was a matter of survival. That much she knew, for that was how she had lived so far. The way of the Lohengarde.
It was the first time Silent Sea thought of her people in days.
Although she wouldn't move, her heart followed the pace of that battle, as if she were part of it. It was clear he needed no assistance, though, and thus she allowed herself to observe, reading the swift and yet powerful moves of both opponents. He was certainly no demon, the scaleface, but there was a reptilian quality to his ways, even as he swayed the very same sword she had seen so many Hyuran fighters holding, hitting the beast with the shield just as they would do. No, that one was something else – and not for the horns and the tail and the scales that would give rise to all sorts of rumors back in town.
He was something else, she understood as he dropped arms, lunging towards the peiste in order to kill it with his bare hands. Just as she herself was.
