The kiss is desperate, born of the terrible loss he endured. Phoenyx can’t handle losing him like that again. It’s all far too much. A tear runs down his face from pure relief before he pulls his lips away and presses his forehead to Thancred’s.
“Never leave me like that again.” Phoenyx whispers, his deep rooted fear of abandonment leaking into his tone.
Thancred holds him tenderly, reaching up to wipe the tears from his face.
"You really must stop ignoring your wounds like this, love." Thancred remarks as he pulls up the back of Phoenyx's shirt to get a better look at the injury. A laceration of decent depth cuts diagonally from his shoulder blade to his waist. It's not too serious, tame enough that Phoenyx insisted he didn't need a healer, but Thancred refused to leave it alone entirely. He'd watched Sanduruva land the blow on Phoenyx near the end of their battle, but of course, he carried on as if it were nothing. It wasn't until they returned to the Hamsa Hatchery that he started showing the signs of it bothering him.
Thancred opens up a bottle of spirits, soaking a cloth with the contents. "Hold still, this might sting a little." He warns before running the cloth over the wound. Phoenyx sucks air in through his teeth, squeezing the hand Thancred placed upon his shoulder to hold him steady.
"It really isn't that bad, I don't see what the issue with leaving it would have been."
A pang of frustration blossoms in Thancred's chest. He adores Phoenyx, he really does, but he's been absolutely terrible about this ever since their time in the First. "Bad or no, I merely wish you'd care enough about yourself to not suffer in silence." His voice raises ever so slightly. "You're not alone. You don't have to do this all on your own. And you certainly don't have to push yourself to breaking before you bother caring for your own wellbeing."
The words sting more than the alcohol against his open wound. Primarily because he knows Thancred is right, despite how the voices in his head scream arguments against him. Voices who insist that he's a weapon rather than a person, who refuse to let go of placing these tasks solely on his shoulders. Phoenyx sighs, leaning his head against Thancred's hand on his shoulder and brushing his lips gently against his fingers. "I'm sorry. You're right. I just find it all so... daunting." He admits. "I hardly know where to begin."
Thancred releases some of the tension in the air with a heavy breath, softening. "Begin by telling us when you're hurting, darling."
Phoenyx twists his waist to face him, then nods and leans his forehead against Thancred's, his eyes fluttering shut.
Lately Phoenyx and Thancred hadn't much time for any sort of lighthearted interactions. Everyone was far too focused on the Final Days and finding a solution for it. But today, as they came up on the second or third day of waiting for the Ragnarok to be ready, the two of them started flirting while aiding with some of the many menial tasks in Labyrinthos. Most of the Sharlayans either paid them no mind or found the interaction adorable. But one man in particular just had a stick up his ass.
"If the two of you could focus, this really isn't the time nor place."
The smile on Phoenyx's face drops to a death glare as he shifts his gaze away from his partner and towards the scholar who spoke up. Without a single word in response he looks the man dead in the eyes, then pulls Thancred into an almost aggressive kiss that's only barely appropriate for the setting they're in, throwing up the middle finger with his free hand.
Needless to say, they aren't bothered by him again the rest of the day.
Pouring the fuel, fanning the flames
Breaking the habit and melting the chains
Embracing the fear, chasing the fight
The glow of the fire will light up the night
The bridges are burning, the heat's on my face
Making the past an unreachable place
Pouring the fuel, fanning the flames
I know, this is the point of no return
Sometimes the Echo is a cruel force. Upon being sent back to his own time, Phoenyx's mind is swarmed with images of the first Final Days. But these are no ordinary memories. These are... his. He doesn't know how he knows this, but he does. The memories of his unsundered self. Azem.
It's a horrible feeling. Phoenyx has seen Amaurot burn before, when Emet-Selch recreated it to test their meddle in the Tempest. But as he watches the carnage before him through these eyes, a deep sadness and heartbreak swirls through his chest. These are no longer shades of what once was, these are his friends, his people, his lovers.
He can't save them.
He tries. He fails. It repeats.
All he can feel is an overwhelming feeling of loss and betrayal. Hythlodaeus is sacrificed to Zodiark and his world comes crashing down. Hades has done something he can never forgive.
Phoenyx snaps out of the flashbacks with a sharp breath, finding himself on the floor of the Ocular back in the Crystarium. He curls into himself and his body is overwhelmed with sobs as the residual emotions overtake him completely. He doesn't know what's worse, remembering these things or being given such a small glimpse of his former life only for it to be snatched away in the same instant. He'd never wish to forsake all he has now, but every ilm of him wants to understand.
Deep breaths, in and out. It takes time, but he manages to calm himself. That yearning feeling that plagued him from the moment he arrived in Elpis still aches in his chest, but this is no time to dwell on those details. There is no going back. The important thing is he learned what he needed to in order to save their star here and now. He'll see it through if it's the last thing he does.
“ ‘t is been quite a few moons and summer since we met last, “ alberic’s smile is tired yet warm, eyes flicking only briefly from the jagged horizon to greet gilen now stood at his side. “ though ne’er would i have thought our next one to be here, “ at the supposed end days, no less. alberic will not lie and say part of his desire to join the contingent to garlemald was on the faint hope to see estinien, fain would he have that talk long overdue. but though estinien is here, he seems busy ━ or mayhap merely busy avoiding speaking to him ━ and thus alberic contends to wait, hoping to find a moment ‘twixt tasks, later that eve. for now, present company is more than adequate. “ i see you have kept up your lance work to a laudable degree; i’d fain say you could teach me a thing or two nowadays. “ / @knowroam
never a dull moment, she thinks, green hues looking out over the glittering blue waters of the ruby sea. even in times of peace her lord hien would somehow find his way into trouble ━ not that she truly would have it otherwise. by now it seems an age old tradition between them, after all; and with gosetsu gone, it falls to her to keep him safe. keep her people safe and help heal the wounds of the land.
with onokoro sprawled at her back, she waits at the docks for lord hien to finish his business so they may return to the enclave and prepare for the rite of mourning. many people will come, it seems. no wonder, for all the losses they’d faced. would that she could think of something that to it of her own ━ but the items she yet has of her parents, alive but lost to her as they were for as long as her banishment stands, she is loathe to part with. maybe one day. maybe one day. no longer thought with ache, but hope ━ never had she dared to think they would still be proud of her.
a small smile pushes to her lips, even as she shifts her face a little to the side. amusement rather than grievance colors her tone. “ it is bad form to sneak up on a shinobi, rhinn, “ a beat, “ next time, breathe less loudly. “ / @gaolseeker
throughout the years since her children left sharlayan to follow in their grandfather’s footsteps, ameliance has ever dutifully read and replied to their every missive, eagerly yet fretfully following along the path of their adventures ━ finding solace in knowing they never forgot to appraise her of the minute details, solace in knowing they had grown into strong and independent young adults, strong enough to stand on their own. now that they’d returned, however, she could not deny how much she’d missed them. how much their absence had weighed; more than once ‘pon reading those letters had she wished to call them home, if only to hold them once more and offer them comfort in their times of strife and hardship. and no time had she wished it more, than when her son had written her in shaky hand about the crystal braves’ betrayal.
still, she knows in doing so she would only have hindered them in growing; knows that if there was anything she could have done, they would have asked. and indeed, as time moved on, her son’s letters had turned from being filled with defeat and heart-ache to determination and conviction found anew. and gradually, in those letters, a name would start to appear along that of the warrior of light, of a certain knight dragoon whom’d managed to become naught short of a hero to her son; his respect and boyish admiration of the man, the fear at the thought of losing him shone in nigh every word. in his words she too had come to greatly admire this stranger, knowing she would never be able to repay him for the hope and strength he’d managed to instill in alphinaud’s spirit.
to think now that she would finally get to meet this ser estinien at long last, after having read so much of his actions and deeds ━ why, she could scarce contain her excitement! “ julia, once my son arrives with his guest, please show them into the sitting room at once, “ she tells her attendant, smoothing out her frock once more, her hands fretting with the set of tea already waiting on the table. / @varlineaue
