This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.
@daily-writing-challenge
TW: none
Spoilers: End of Heavensward into Stormblood
There was something no one ever really talked about before and after a battle. Something that appeared before the adrenaline, and something that crept back in after it. Something that didn’t really have a word or a feeling, or a good description really.
So Bryn had given it one.
The Gloom.
A stupid name for a thing so serious, but it felt odd to just try and describe it without a name. And despite his attempts to come up with a better one, The Gloom had stuck. Perhaps it was more apt than he had realized it was, or maybe he was just too lazy to come up with a different one, but even now, after the forced taking of Baelsar's Gate, he had to tip his non-existent hat to his younger self.
Gloom described everyone far too well.
When the primal had risen, forced screaming into existence by The Griffon’s sacrifice, panic had swept the ranks of soldiers on the Shroud side of the wall. A panic that had subsided when it seemed as if the primal appeared and almost immediately disappeared. Or so they thought. Things happened fast, faster than most knew, that Bryn only knew because he was there, in the meetings, side by side with allies and friends who were mourning the loss of one of their own, and yet, pushed on. Pushed on and rallied to finish off the primal a life had been given to stop.
All of which led to now.
The Eorzean Alliance held Baelsar’s Gate.
Bryn was walking among the soldiers stationed within the gate with heavy, tired footfalls, and no matter where he looked he could see it. The Gloom, the realization of how many had died to take just this tiny piece of Garlean tech, to breach a wall that had separated the Black Shroud from Gyr Abania for years. And now they were expected to hold it, while Garlean attacks against it were nearly constant. It weighed on too many a soul, and Bryn knew it. They couldn’t hold this fortress if the men and women in it didn’t believe they could.
Perhaps the Scions were right about pushing into Gyr Abania proper, finding the resistance and working with them to fight the Garleans. The sooner the fight for his homeland was forced to a head, the better, and not just because he wanted to see his home free. Because he did, he desperately did, he practically shook with the urge to unleash his full strength against these invaders.But because if they didn’t figure something out soon, The Gloom would start claiming too many lives to make this fight worth it.
\o/ Gift Commission for @the-sycophant from @musesofawolf of their FFXIV Characters!
It was very fun to work on! :D I hope that it brings a smile to your face!!
[As per my usual colorblindness lines below the cut!]
Cyra kept the blade near the exposed skin of his throat, but never to touch. The close proximity to the taller man was no mistake. The smell alone was enough proof for her, even if it wasn't for him. This wasn't the first time she'd seen him. Disguised, shadowed, or exposed like he was now...he had been following her.
"Why are you following me?" Her words came out as a threatening hiss.
He had been following her for at least the last few days. Bryn had told her of the possibilities that there were Garlean spies still looking for them, even if it had been three years since liberation. She was also aware that not every Hyur, Elezen, or Miqo'te were honest about their identity. The fact that a strange man had been following her around, even across two regions of Eorzea had made him a person of interest.
The Keeper would have preferred to not use the skills she learned under Garlean influence, but one couldn't be too careful. She would die before being dragged back into that icy prison. Her knife hand trembled, and her other arm had locked around his at the elbow. She knew she could be overpowered easily, but she had to be caught first.
This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.
@daily-writing-challenge
TW: none
Spoilers: Beginning of Stormblood, and a big reveal related to Yda. You have been warned!
“We should approach them!”
It was everything the seasoned warrior could do to keep his mouth closed and the grind of his teeth to a minimum, his silver eyes flashing with anger as he rose to his full height and crossed his arm over his chest, a clear sign to anyone who knew him that he was displeased. But while Kaleh'a shrunk away, keeping to the corners of the meeting room after giving his report and downing two canteen of water, the young blonde dressed in red stares right back at him like she didn't have a hint of fear in her body. Or perhaps she lacked the sense to be afraid.
“Are you forgetting we are in this mess because of them?” His voice was low, angry, practically a growl, a growl that didn't dissipate until a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, and made the native Ala Mhigan fall silent. If there was one man in this meeting who he had the utmost respect for, one of his own countrymen no less, it was Raubahn, the Bull of Ala Mhigo. His gaze cut to the towering one-armed figure, who even dwarfed Bryn’s six fulm frame, and the look of understanding and sympathy in his gaze had the Silver Wolf relaxing slightly. He understood probably better than most the turmoil in Bryn’s mind being so close to home, all while still shouldering the loss of a friend.
The loss of two friends.
His gaze slid back across to Lyse as Raubahn did his best to cut through the middle with, “He’s right, the false flag attempt by The Griffon has landed us in this situation, and I can understand the hesitance to reach out to the rebels. Which is why we three are here. We all have a stake in this fight, in our homeland. It is–”
Bryn’s hand raises, shaking his head. “I'm sorry, but what stake does she have?” Lyse looked like her long blonde hair might bristle into a porcupine’s back at his words, and Raubahn shot him a look. A look he returned with narrow eyes. Maybe the shock of her reveal still stung. The shock that the woman he had fought with years and years ago was gone, replaced by her sister. The shock at the audacity of the lie… It was all too fresh as he met her gaze and rumbled out, “Your father was a brave man, I don't doubt that, and I don't doubt that you were born in Gyr Abania, but you were younger than us both when your sister spirited you out of this land. So I ask again, what stake do you have in this beyond your time pretending to by Yda?”
He felt as much as saw Raubahn tense at the name, at the mention of the deception, and Kaleh'a coughed from somewhere behind them as the sudden silence stretched on. Until Lyse, staring up at Bryn from across the war table, turned up her nose, let out a breath of air, and turned away from them, marching to the door while throwing over her shoulder, “You can say what you want about me, it doesn't change the fact that I'm going, and I'm taking the Warrior of Light with me! We will have allies! And I will keep fighting for my country!”
The door slammed behind her, leaving the two older men standing there, until Bryn sighed. “She's hot headed, idealistic, and dangerous.” Raubahn grunted, leaning his one good hand against the table and looking over the map.
“Aye, she is all those things. Which the resistance needs.” Bryn’s eyes narrowed, but he stayed silent, for a moment.
“Maybe. But there will be no resistance if she leads them into a fight they can't win.” That got a heavy sigh from Raubahn, who nodded and pushed off the table.
“Which is why you will go with her.”
“What?”
“What?! Sorry, sorry, I'm just gonna…” Kaleh'a was quick to slip out of the room when both men’s heads snapped his direction, the hard pairs of eyes not softening until he was gone, and Bryn could shake his head.
“I cannot work with them if they planned the false flag.”
“I know,” Raubahn said softly, “but we don't know they did. Look, Bryn.” That heavy hand on his shoulder again, his blue eyes boring into Bryn’s silver. “I trust you. You've proven yourself in the field. You know this land, how dangerous and beautiful it can be. Find out if the Resistance can be trusted, and if they can, guide her.”
Bryn’s brows knitted together, his eyes gleaming with displeasure, but…Raubahn was right about one thing. Someone needed to be there, to work with the Resistance, and to lend a hand to Lyse. Her fire might be what the Resistance needs, but it couldn't be allowed to burn unrestrained. He sighs and the weariness flashes across his face, years of fighting evident on his face, and a tiny kernel of hope.
“We are so close, Raubahn, we are so close.”
“The closest we have ever been,” he agrees, before patting Bryn’s shoulder. “I’ll go ask the Warrior of Light to join you. Between the two of you, surely it will be enough to keep things moving in the right direction.”
Raubahn just barely caught the grumbled words from Bryn as they both headed for the door. “And keep me from throttling her.”
This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.
@daily-writing-challenge
TW: none
Spoilers: Minor points of Stormblood
“Is that…”
“Whoa…”
Bryn could just stare, not a word on his lips, his mind still trying to figure out just what he was seeing.
It was a…well, what other way was there to describe it besides a wolf. A bipedal, blinking, staring back at them wolf. Or, wolf man. Man wolf? “Lupin,” Alisaie called them, surprising them all enough that Kaleh'a’s tail flicked, Silvia’s ears twitched, and Bryn, Bryn still stood motionless. Motionless enough he might as well have been a statue as she continued. “Alphinaud told me about them. They are abundant in Othard and Doma. Surprised we haven't seen one sooner, honestly.”
Sooner? This was practically right outside of their small base of operations in Doma. If they were that common here that the three of them just ran into one? Could that really mean…
“Uhm, did I do something…wrong?” The Lupin was bouncing his gaze between the four of them, his simple kimono marking him as likely a farmer, and given the tiers of rice they were standing in, a local one. Bryn had no doubt their sudden group was concerning, especially the fact that they were all foreigners. It was no secret that a rebellion was brewing, while mostly being ignored, but with how close they were to the Lupin’s doorstep, he had no doubt they had heard the rumblings.
“No,” his voice surprised even him, a little louder than he meant, a little more gruff. He cleared his throat, shaking his head and offering a small smile. “Nothing wrong, sir. We just…it…we hadn't seen a Lupin before.”
“Ahhh, you weren't with the initial group we saw around here. Are we really that surprising?” His voice was so…fluid, with barely a hint of a growl, none of that animalistic rumble he would expect from a muzzle.
That he had heard from himself.
This was just surreal, to the point that Bryn stepped forward, closed his eyes, and…took a slow, deep breath.
“No, you are not surprising.” His eyes opened, offering a bow the way Yugiri had taught them. “It's nice to meet you. And thank you for your continued secrecy about our presence here.”
The Lupin bowed back, a small smile on his lips as he rose in time with Bryn. “No, thank you. You've brought hope back to us, and that is no small feat. I hope…truly…that you all succeed.”
“As do I.”
They wandered from the rice fields after that, along the road towards the arches of rock that easily let them view the Doma Castle, and it was only when they were separated by a few paces from Alisaie and Kaleh'a - who were bickering over who was the better fighter for the fifth time since they had landed in Kugane - that Silvia hung back, and asked the troubled Hyur, “Are they…?”
“No,” he murmured, shaking his head. “Or, well, maybe.” They walked in silence for a moment, before he sighed. “Similar, but different. Maybe in the past, a long time ago, my family came from Doma. Or maybe the Lupin once lived in Gyr Abania. But if they did, there are almost no similarities now…” It brought a twang of anguish to his chest, something that bit deep at the hope upon seeing the Lupin that maybe...just maybe, he had found a thread that explained his situation. To have it dashed so quickly hurt in a way he hadn't expected...
He was surprised when her hand landed gently on his arm, her blue eyes meeting his with an understanding smile. “In the end, it doesn't change who you are. Even if they were the same.”
Bryn only nodded, softly, and she drew back her hand, tail flicking behind her, and for a moment he watched it from the corner of his eye, and offered her a small glimpse of his thoughts. “Abundant… What a shock that would be to see them on a battlefield.”
Silvia visibly shivered, shaking her head quickly. "No thank you. I think just one fighting for us is plenty." Which only brought a tired smile to Bryn's face.
This will be a connected, multi-character view into the early events of Stormblood in FFXIV. Spoilers will be put beneath the break when needed.
@daily-writing-challenge
TW: none
Spoilers: End of Heavensward into Stormblood
Hot. Far too hot. Where was the shade? The trees? The greenery!?
By the Twelve, this was where Bryn had grown up? No wonder he was always so broody! Kaleh’a couldn’t imagine it, the hardscrabble landscape of rocks and sand and mountains so different from the gentle rolling hills of the Shroud, all of which had trees and foliage and green everywhere! This place? This felt like the opposite of the Shroud. Which might be exactly why it acted as a natural barrier and end to the Shroud’s woods.
What it didn’t act as a natural barrier to was the Miqo’te’s adventurous nature and the hair-brained idea to scout ahead. Why had he raised his hand when the call for scouts had gone out? He had no idea! He wasn’t built for this flat and rocky terrain! He was used to trees, and climbing, and sneaking up on his enemies from the side or above or, on very few occasions, below! The only thing this windswept and nearly lifeless land was good for was seeing any Garlean at the same time they would see him. So he at least could watch his doom approach!
Or, well, not exactly.
He had a bow, and the wide open swaths of rocky sand actually offered him some incredible sight lines. In turn, given his training in spaces that required precision so something like a branch didn’t knock his arrow flight off, this space was just asking for him to try for a longest shot. As long as he got the wind right, it would be relatively easy, and since the mountains liked to block a good section wind, he could probably wait for it to die down and then loose an arrow. He had already spied some viscous looking vultures he could try it on, or rather large grizzly bears that had somehow adapted to the harsh climate. But neither of those creatures was why he was sitting atop this little knoll of sand looking out towards a creek.
According to the locals, they had dubbed it Mirage Creek, and he could see why. The water seemed to throw up a spray in the heat that made the rockface behind it shimmer and wave. He had grown bored watching the colors shift, and instead laid flat on his chest to track a wild dodo, idly watch it wander closer to the creek, disappear into the shifting mirage, and then…
Both of his blonde ears shot up in surprise as a small group of quickly moving, well garbed Ala Mhigan fighters appeared from seemingly nowhere. His eyes tracked the group as they stuck close to the creek and the walls of the cliff behind them, shifting his weight to keep his head pointing their direction while using his eyes as much as possible, until they were distant specs in the distance, and he shifted back to stare at the Mirage Creek.
Something was back there. Something, behind this shifting spray, was back there and harboring rebels. He had something to report!
As he was shifting his quiver on his back, the sand around him jumped, or maybe more accurately quivered, and he froze, staring at it in surprise. He watched, waited, and then again, the sand trembled, grains falling down the knoll he was on, and in a moment of instinct, perhaps from his sand dwelling cousins who preferred the sun over the moon, he pressed an ear to the knoll and sand.
Steady, like a heartbeat, something was disturbing the sand, the land around him, with heavy, mechanical foot falls that set the sand dancing against the inner fur of his ear. It was something big, something Garlean made, and something he had no intention of sticking around to find out what it was, or how far it could see.
Filing away the new way to track in this foreign land, he picked himself up, turned, crouched, down and…sprinted like a bat out of the Seven Hells, sand and rocks kicking up behind him as his tail became a wind streamer behind him, all the way until he was safely back at the occupied Castrum Oriens, to breathlessly report, “I think I found it! I think I found the rebels! Does anyone have any water?”
To say the moments after that little experience was awkward would be...an understatement. Especially with Kaleh'a shooting Silvia questioning looks, Silvia barely able to look at Bryn, and Bryn...well, some bodies looked less pale than he did.
The only thing that really made noise as they trudged towards U'ldah together was the sand under their boots, the kind of heavy silence over the three of them that only strangers that knew too much could have. None of them wanted to broach the subject, and yet, to drop it felt wrong too. So they just walked, in silence, as they each bit their tongues in hope that someone else would speak first.
And true to form, Kaleh'a did first.
"That's it! I can't stand it!" He whirled, throwing his hands up in the air before pointing at Silvia with a half accusatory finger. "I saw the first time you used my last name! And felt why you did so! So, you were just trying to garner a bit of favor using a well established name?"
Silvia had halted, her feet sinking a little into the sand as she kept her head held low and shook her head. "No, not...I mean yes but..." She couldn't look up at the Miqo'te that was only a few inches taller than her, but the way her ears wilted, tail dipped into the warm sand, and couldn't look at him, it was obvious she felt bad. "You don't understand how hard it is to drop out of my tribe, to be alone."
Kaleh'a spluttered with indignation, eyes wide with disbelief and anger. "Don't know!?" His voice was incredulous, rising with each word. "Do you have any ide-"
"You're a Keeper!" She hurled it, like an insult, and then looked shocked at her own words, as her now fluffed out tail curled between her legs. "I...I mean your tribes are different. You can't know. It's not your fault."
For a long moment, he stared at her, his turquoise eyes matching the expressions across his face until it settled on befuddlement, and he blurted out, "Do you really think my mother's name is Quickdraw?"
Silvia blinked, and her mouth opened, and closed, and her tail uncurled from between her legs, and instead curled around her ankle. "Oh...you changed your name too."
"Yes." He sighed, and shook his head. "Look, we both clearly broke tradition in different ways, but to say I wouldn't understand?" His head shook vehemently. "You couldn't know what it was like to be a Keeper in Gridania. And I'm glad you didn't have to know."
Her ears had fallen back on her head, but they lifted slightly at his grumbled words of good faith. Or at least some sort of good will. "I hadn't really considered that," she admitted, and finally glanced up from her boots. "Why did you change your surname?"
"Same reason you dropped the M off the front of yours." He raised an eyebrow at her, and she didn't deny her previous tribal affiliation. "I wanted to be my own person. Not tied to a tribe or matron. Don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but I needed to be...me."
She nodded slowly, meeting his gaze more readily now. "Yes, exactly! So you do get it!"
He held up a hand quickly, both his ears going flat atop he head as he shook it violently. "No I do not! You dropped your tribe just to take my chosen name! How is that being you?"
"Because you were the one who inspired me to leave my tribe!"
"I inspired y - what!?" Kaleh'a's eyes were wide again, and his mouth was agape as she nodded wildly.
"I heard about you! A Miqo'te who made a name for himself! I hadn't even considered it was possible outside of a tribe, but then your stories just kept growing and I left to go to where you got your start, and when the Wood Wailers asked me my name I blanked and panicked and just chose the name of the man who had got me to dream bigger! You!"
Kaleh'a could only stare as the words spilled from her mouth, at some point his own mouth closing as he swallowed hard, a hand lifting to scratch at the back of one of his ears as he mumbled, "I...really don't know what to say to that..."
"I can drop the name!" She blurted it out without really thinking, and Kaleh'a surprised her by immediately yelping back.
"No!" The two stared at each other in mutual confusion from their own responses, before Kaleh'a sighed. "Look, for better or for worse, it's your name now too. And people aren't going to confuse us. So...you can keep it." He snorts, and shakes his head. "It's not like I had a claim to it anyways."
Her eyes light up, and the next second she's hugging him, Kaleh'a as stiff as a board as she tearfully gets out, "Thank you," before she releases him and steps back, wiping at her eyes. Which is when she noticed Bryn had kept walking.
Kaleh'a follows her gaze to the Hyur plodding through the sand, and he sighs heavily, heading after him in short little bursts of jogging, as Silvia keeps up easily while peppering him with questions.
"Is he okay?"
"He will be." The archer slid down a dune as the dragoon behind followed his example.
"He seemed...broken."
"Likely because," he paused, and then glanced back at Silvia, waiting until she was abreast with him in their walk to catch back up. "Likely because you just witnessed the literal worst day of his life that he never wanted anyone else to have to experience or see."
She fell silent for a long moment, and then whispered, "That was my first Echo."
"Likely not your last. But I doubt they will get much worse than that." And that was enough to make her shudder, resolving to knock Bryn out of his mood with a flying hug and apology once they caught up.
A note: The Echo is a gift, one that allows those with it to resonate with other people's souls - and see their past. Not all see it as a gift, though.
----------
He looked so...small.
It was an Echo, Bryn knew it was, because it came with that out of body feeling, the weird experience of feeling everything but not being there. He hated it, but the moment he and Kaleh'a had found her, all three of their eyes had grown wide as they were thrown headlong into experiences not their own.
This had to be Kaleh'a. Standing there, bow pulled back, staring down the charging boar like he wasn't fulms away from getting gutted. He didn't flinch, he didn't dodge, he didn't do a damn thing but release the arrow like he had a thousand times before.
And Bryn could feel it. The grim determination as the little Miqo'te became the target, rather than the slowly catching fire carriage and injured guard defending it.
The way the beast dropped, fell, arrow between its eyes, came with a flood of so much relief and pride, that Bryn felt the warmth in his own chest from it. It felt good, vindicating, like he had just achieved something that before was a struggle. And now, that barrier was gone.
Gone as quick as the vision disappeared from Bryn's mind, leaving him disjointed and feeling sick to his stomach.
He hunched over, gagging, falling to one knee as he took heavy, deep breaths, shuddering with each one as he re-oriented himself with his real surroundings, the sand between his fingers, the blazing sun on his back, and the sound of a stifled, muffled sob. And Kaleh'a, mumbling absently, "So that's why you chose my name."
Eyes lifting, slowly, up over a blonde tail, up over a lightly armored figure, across blue eyes swimming with tears, and finally catching a hint of a purple bow holding back her long, blonde hair. His gaze dropped back to her eyes, to the tears falling down her cheeks, and he knew, even before she said the words, what she had seen.
"How..." Silvia choked out, falling to her knees, a hand reaching out, and pulling back, second guessing herself as she whispered. "How did you survive that? How does it not...break you?"
Silver eyes slid closed, and his head dipped, hung, heavy on his shoulders, too much to lift until he slowly forced it back up, forced it up until he could look into her eyes, and whisper right back. "I don't know."
And Kaleh'a, staggering slightly, before giving the two an odd look and plopping into the sand beside them. "What the hell did you two even see?"
