❛ i sometimes wonder if things only get better so that they can get worse again. ❜ › aymeric.
A lone wolf, a juggernaut, a beast, a monster, a merciless reaper. There have been countless nicknames given to her for her skills on the battlefield. The lack of hesitation that made countless people wonder if she were a mortal just like them. They are still young, as young as they can be-- They are warriors who may not have had a childhood. The maiden of ice and frost would truly represents those words unlike the future heretic who will appear to sacrifice her life for the mending of dragon and man relations. Lady Iceheart was a sweet maiden with the interest of others in her heart, but Zarina was nowhere near that. Every single achievement of hers was driven by a person need to protect her brothers, the only family she had left, and to achieve higher power, ambition of hers be damned. Pride may become her downfall, but she won’t stray away from her path to grab onto power that will make those in power shudder, knowing full well that a beast cannot be tamed. Unlike those who fought among their friends and peers, her path lied on the path where loneliness, isolation, and distance will make her into an outcast down the line.
It made his words all the more foolish to listen to. At least, to her ears they were empty and they were hollow. She could not relate to them, she could not feel them, she could not empathize or sympathize with them. She only knew this endless, hungry, greedy strive forward. Events can be turned into opportunities if one is open enough to such an opportunity. There’s never been blind trust or love towards one united religion or authority figure, there’s no true respect for the one who rules this Holy See. She shan’t ever speak of this (nay, soon it’ll all drown in the abyss), her mind knowing better than to become a heretic in the eyes of many. Isolation already makes its way into her heart, making the words of de Borel once again seem like pitiable excuses. It’s not true, but to her, it all sounds the same. It’s a saddening conclusion as she’s been taught to get up, to march through, to hunt and to survive. All to protect what was important to her, the only rays of sunshine to thaw her frigid heart.
How can Aymeric have a heart and yet still striving forward with the same gaze? His kindness and his dutifulness remains unquestionable, unyielding. How soon will he die with such an outlook? It makes her wonder, guess, give an expected date of his demise. It is cruel, but it is the only reality she was raised in and the only reality she knew: she is an older sister, she must grasp ambition and power. How, then, can a man like Aymeric de Borel remain shining like the Sun above Ishgard? It is only the beginning, but she has an eye for potential and his shines beyond horizon. It blinds, it makes her sick, it makes her feel irritated if ever for a moment. He is a leader, he is a polar star, he is a light for this cold and merciless place. If she is the sword, he is the shield, and a warrior always keeps their shield closer to their heart.
It tastes bitter. His presence, his duty, his optimism. These words he speaks push her forward to speak with a hand on her hip and the other absent-mindedly playin with a lock of silver hair.
“ My, my. Are you complaining to me, Aymeric de Borel? ” Her inquiry is a taunt, a jab to see how this paladin ‘persona’ will crack under specific words. She cannot know comradery among her peers, not a true one. They fear her but they also respect her. People love Aymeric and they respect him. Respect is shared between two groups, but there are those who see the bigger picture and there are those who want to be protected. They know not that only one between these two would truly do anything and everything to keep Holy See of Ishgard safe. There is only one future for this city basking in blood of history and Dragonsong War. They are warriors, but oh how different they are. Zarina finds it sickening, why can she not understand his words and his approach? It stings, it bites, it whispers. Is it envy she feels towards him, who shines like the Sun while she shines like the Moon? Perhaps, it’s not impossible. “ How pessimistic, you see no opportunity, hm? We are at war. Nothing will be peaceful or better until it ends. Don’t allow a false sense of security cloud your judgement or you’ll end up as ashes like your team before. ”
How brutal, reminding of how he and Estinien were the only survivors. But she cares not, she did not allow anyone else slow her down or die on her watch to sullen her reputation. All saw this as an act of noble kindness, a warrior striving forward to protect her team, but it wasn’t true. She is yet to learn team work and trust in other’s skill. The memory of her father’s demise rings in her mind: live strong, survive no matter what; become stronger than anyone.
“ Don’t be so optimistic as to think things get better in the first place. You might win a battle but you may lose the war. We are at a constant state of stagnation, the Dragonsong War continues and I am adamant about doing anything to end it before my youngest brother will reach official status of the knight, ” she makes it so obvious where her priorities lie. Golden gaze is shining cold, a deep contrast towards a gaze of a different strength. She sees him mopping instead of training, fighting, strategizing. He has potential, so what holds him back? Why does he continue to walk down this kinder, warmer path? Why does he not turn into what she is herself? A beast. What one has to be to survive: a monster that cannot be known or tamed, even if it brings fear into those around them. Her cynical gaze sees judgement where she wants to see it even if it is not there, all to justify her own bloodlust and her own hunger for freedom. First, for her brothers and second for herself. Freedom off these shackles, where she can get out and satisfy her gluttonous ambition. Perhaps, this envy she feels is born from the simple truth: you’ve never been taught how to trust in human nature. “ I wish I understood your point of view, but I don’t. To me, your words and wonders sound like a waste of time. Instead of wondering about what makes life better or worse, find an opportunity to sharpen your potential and your weapons, be it your silver tongue or your sword. These wonders won’t help us survive, those wonders... won’t assist us in protect those who truly matter. ”
And years later, after exile and her own journey, will she become back and understand: this man’s approach was what she never understood. Bitterly once again, she’ll understand how she longs to be able to fathom such approach, such view, such silly philosophical wonder. He was the future of Ishgard, the sun that has to melt the ice around Holy See’s heart, teach people of a better future. She is too deep in the bloodbath created from this city’s history. He’s the light that’ll shine the way while she will lose this place, this home, this warmth within the mountain snow for when she will return... Ishgard won’t be hers anymore, she will belong there no more.
“ To end my answer: stop thinking about foolish things. Things get better, things get worse. All by comparison and all by how you look at it. It’s the circle of life. You won’t know when your happiness begins and ends until it’s started or ended with a bit of misery. Find an opportunity in misery, it’s how you’ll be ahead of others... or so my mother told me. ”
