#erembourc

[noxcaelestia]

The loud noises have been disturbing the bats 🦇

[snakemoltsiren]

The Reunion

pt 1

Ténacité received exceptional damage in a dragon siege not long after the Battle of Carteneau. Losing both legs and suffering from burns and numerous broken bones, she was nearly forced into retirement. A gracious anonymous donation provided her with prosthetics and accommodation in order to help her return to training her fellow dragoons, though she would never see intense battle again. Erembourc traveled far once they'd heard of their former betrothed's accident. Though the pair hadn't seen much of each other in nearly two decades, the reunion was sweet.

[dragons-ire]

#15 Portentous

The rains rolled in the desert without much warning. Ominous black clouds rolling in out of a clear sky, a long shadow cast over the earth. The smell of petrichor in the air, and then the deluge.

Huhubici Jujubici sat at the front of his trade caravan, squinting over the chocobos heads as they pulled in to Camp Drybone. The rain washed the roads, threatened to hold up travel.

Wouldn’t do to get stranded out in the mud. Better to weather over here until it passed.

With luck, the local Brass Blades could be convinced not to inspect the cargo too closely.

His bodyguard stood with his arms folded while Huhubici jumped down to the ground. A wasn’t half a dozen 

“HEY! Watch it.” He yelled out, turning to see who it was

“Sorry!” A pair of young voices called back, waving as they ran past. A pair of elezen young enough to not have their height yet, a pale-haired one just a little taller than (his? her?) blue-haired and skinned comrade. They paused under an awning, still soaking wet from the rain to whisper to each other.

“...looks like the rain washed all the garbage clear out of the Shroud.” Grumbling, Huhubici turned up his collar and continued his hurried way towards the dingy inn for a little respite. The small party burst in the door, wringing water out of their clothes.

Just himself, his personal security detail. The drivers, the chocobos, the rest of the guards should be fine in the elements and in the wagons for now.

The only other inhabitants in the main room when his small party shuffled in were crowded around a corner table. They didn’t look up - a large Roegadyn man conferring with a shorter miqo’te woman. Another elezen - quite a few of them here today for such a small town - off to the side, watching the door without seeming to watch anyone coming through.

Huhubici deliberated for all of half a second before stomping over. 

“Are those your kids out there?” He demanded. The elezens gaze (how eyes that orange color could look so cool) shifted down to regard him.

“...were they causing you trouble?” They asked in return. “I’m deeply sorry if they were.”

“They need to watch where they’re going, or they’re going to seriously hurt someone.” Huhubici went on, folding his arms.

“I see. Again, I’m very sorry. I’ll be sure to have a word with them about being more careful.” The older elezen finished, then turned back to their drink and the conversation.

 If Huhubici hasn’t beent so miserably damp and tired, he might have been ready to demand more for the indignation. As it was, he just waited, seeing if there was more to that apology.

When nothing came, he made a small sound in the back of his throat, turning to the bodyguards. 

“Come on, let’s go.” And turned towards the long bar counter to head that way.

2019 Prompt: Wilt

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

[snakemoltsiren]

The Parting

pt 2

Ser Erembourc Boucher was barely 22 Summers old when they left Ishgard. Walking away from their title, their House, and their Intended. They traveled in and out of Coerthas for years, occasionally returning to Ishgard to train fencing students before leaving for months or years at a time.

Ser Ténacité Archambeau, Knight Dragoon and Fourth Daughter (derogatory) would never marry. She suffered horrific injuries during the Dragonsong War, but refused retirement. Instead she remained on, training new dragoons through the end of the war.

[noxcaelestia]

Erembourc 🦇

[snakemoltsiren]

Day 2. Calamity

 ɪ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʙᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴘᴀᴘᴀ'ꜱ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ʙᴀʀᴇ-ʙᴏɴᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ ɪɴ ʀᴇᴅ ᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴏᴏᴅ

ft @dragons-ire

[snakemoltsiren]

16. Crane

“Do you know that cranes watch over each other while they sleep?” The Thanalan night was vast and quiet. Quiet, but not silent. Insects and night birds had begun their warbling before the sun had even set and if Severine thought the place felt open and vast and exposed during the day it was nothing compared to how it felt at night. She had drawn lots for one of the later watch shifts and so she sat, huddled with her back to the fire and sunken down into her travel poncho. The heat entered her skull and spine and leeched out through her front and feet in a steady wave that made her feel dizzy. But still she focused the best she could. “Nah. I didn’ know that.” Finally she answers Erembourc, tipping her head and scooting over on her makeshift seat. Her mentor sits with casual ease and not for the first time Severine wonders what it’s like to have that much innate control over yourself. “Mmhmm. Cranes in a flock will appoint a sentry as they sleep. And the guard balances on one leg and holds a stone in their claw.” Leaning to the side, Erembourc scoops up a fist-sized rock that had been kicked aside to make their camp. They turn it in gloved fingers, holding it up. Severine looks at it, sees the subtle stripes, the pits in the surface. And when they offer her the stone she takes it skeptically. “That way,” Erembourc continues, brushing dust from their hand and pressing their palms to their knees. “If they fall asleep, they drop the stone and it wakes them up.” There’s enough of a pause that Severine figures she’s expected to reply there. She looks at the rock, turning it in her hand. Wonders if she’d wake up if she nodded off while sitting here and dropped it. Maybe if she dropped it on her foot. Or knocked something over. “Are you saying I should hold this while I’m on sentry duty?” She tried to keep the doubt from her tone. Erembourc had only ever given her lessons or told her stories that she was supposed to take something from. But really she couldn’t read past the surface of this one. A bird with a rock in its claw. Erembourc smiles a little, firelight glinting off of their straight white teeth and glittering in their ember gaze. “I’m telling you a story about trust. And cranes. Little Bird.” Severine huffs at the nickname, cheeks flaring hot as she slouches down under her poncho. She keeps staring out into the Sagolii. Without thinking about it too much, she keeps the rock curled in her right hand. And the next day, she tucks it into her pack before they clean up camp. Cherubim - serpentwithfeet

[snakemoltsiren]

24. Illustrious

At twenty two years of age, Erembourc Boucher knelt down at their dying mother’s bedside. They neatly smoothed the linens and pulled the blanket up to cover her sharp, thin shoulders. Sitting still and quiet they glanced around the room and picked up the small metal marker resting by the low-flickering lantern. They knew the weight and dimensions of the small icon by touch, having played with it often as a child. Their calloused thumb drug across the word embossed at the top. RESOLUE The frail woman in the bed shifted and sighed and Erembourc frowned, leaning close. The rattle in their mother’s breathing was impossible to miss and had grown deeper with the encroaching winter. Standing up they went to add a log onto the fire, mindful to keep the smoke moving up the chimney rather than letting it drift into the room. Walking back to the bedside they sat on the edge, picking the metal piece back up and resting it on their mother’s chest. “When Allene rushed into the festival square, shouting for the villagers to run into the fields, they did so. The villagers fled in a panic but not from the scythe in Allene’s hand. No, it was the look of rage on the face of a woman they knew for her kindness and calmness that sent them running. And good that they did. For as soon as they were hidden in the fields did a cyclone tear through the abandoned village. And they all would have perished were it not for Allene’s warning. Allene was a farmer and attuned to the fickleness of weather and with the stoutness of her neighbor’s hearts. But sensing the incoming storm, Allene feigned a maddened attack to get them to flee without question, saving their lives. And for her resolve she was raised up as one of Nophica’s blessed saints.” It was more than they had spoken to their mother in years. The knight that laid their hand on her brow was nothing like the child that had left those years ago. “They will not understand. But I hope you do not think poorly of me if I choose to believe that you support my decision.” Leaning over, Erembourc pressed their lips to their mother’s wan forehead. They stay there for a silent moment before standing and arranging the blankets once more. The saint’s card was put back into its place on the bedside table and they pull their feathered cap back onto their short-cropped hair. The bag of coin pressed into the servant’s hand was met with a whispered ‘May the Fury Protect you, Ser’. Erembourc smiled at the caretaker, nodding. The door of the estate was held open by the frowning steward who moved to intercept them. “When your father finds out what you are doing you will be disowned. And there will be no one to blame but yourself, Ser.” The rancor with which that word was said brought an amused quirk to Erembourc’s lips and they reached out, lightly clapping the steward on the shoulder. The man flinched and attempted to pull away but the gloved grasp was too steady. “That is my dearest wish. And may my good father meet his truest reward in the darkest of the hells.” They gave a hat tip that could almost be called jaunty as they strode to the waiting chocobo. Their heart heavy,  and their soul finally lightened. Hares on the Mountain - alt-J