Stories Sown Along the Way

tales of loss and fire and faith

Valhalla weighed heavily on his back, another battle won with blood and steel. His armor's color kept the blood from showing, and he'd wash it off in a nearby stream later. The blackening he'd had done when he'd had the armor forged would help prevent rust. But the battle had meaning. Their commander did not rush into conflict without some measure of purpose, and for that, ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅ was grateful.

It was a brief respite, Elidibus awaited, and Ultima thereafter, and as Lord Beoulve approached him, obviously with something to say, ▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅ took to one knee for the lord he'd sworn fealty to.

Alex awoke on his matress, golden orbs staring listlessly at the ceiling. A mess would be an understatement. His fingers gingerly touched his forehead. Those dreams again. It was a strange phenomenon, the more sense the dreams themselves made, the less sense it made to him in the greater picture. They'd been occuring more often since that whole Sonora shitshow. And once again that entire night played through his mind in rapid succession, bringing the feelings of outrage, guilt, shame, anger all with it. And with it, came that nagging voice of Esteem, Fray, the Shadow, whatever one wished to call it.

You lament your words, wishing you could go back.

Him again. Alex had gotten used to the quiet, but recent events had brought that voice back. He'd honestly thought he'd managed to move past that. He felt stiff, forcing himself up as he sat at the side of his bed. Maybe if he just ignored Esteem, then it would go away. The part of him that deemed itself the ruthless pragmatist, the side that looked out for him when he'd been out being a hero back home. It sounded like him this time. More than once, the voice was different. It sounded like the dream. Were they connected, then?

But if such things were possible, you wouldn't have a broken shield, now would you?

His lips curved further downward. He'd heard that before, reminding him of Haurchefant was a dull knife at this point. All that meant is it was just slower to twist in. "If you're not going to explain those dreams, then fuck off. I don't need you on top of everything else." But he did. Oh, he needed Fray. Or whoever would occasionally take Fray's place. And Fray made that clear.

Your mind is in a more precarious state than it's been in a long time.

Alex snorted, covering his eyes as he draped an arm over them. What a stupid thing to say. "An argument with Dragelion and Prompto, people I barely knew, doesn't carry nearly the weight Haurchefant's death does." He'd never bring it up in an argument with other people. Let the dead have their peace. Arguing with himself though, that was fair game. Fray, he, had all the knowledge he did.

The magnitude is irrelevant. Even a straw can break an Amaro's back. It's an argument that's left you alone and ashamed. Apologize, talk to them, and ask for their forgiveness. Ask for their help.

Alex chose to dismiss the comment as stupid. Just as stupid as the suggestion. He was no fool. Neither would hear anything from him out, much less accept it, much less actually help him. That was a waste of time and effort. And Fray was supposed to be the self styled reasonable one, the one with common sense. Instead, he chose to divert the topic. "Like I said, if you won't explain the dreams, then fuck off." Again, it was a command.

You know what they are. You've known since the moment you saw Cloud. Alex couldn't fucking believe he was arguing with Fray on this.

Bullshit he did. That was the Echo, yeah? That's what he'd figured, anyway. Figured it was just Cloud's memories. Strife. He'd kick his ass once he dealt with Yuna. Now he had a name. A face. And he even knew the man. A groan from Alex as he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Just fuck off."

A pause. Followed by I love you more than you'll ever know. Be well.

And then he had blessed silence. He forced himself to get dressed. He looked at his armor. He had to deal with Yuna first. He sighed again. Caius said he'd handle it and get back to him. On the flip side, things were already beyond repair with Caius. So what did it matter? Just take out Yuna and be done with it. It's what Esteem, or Fray, or whoever, would have argued for anyway. The next few minutes saw him don his armor as he grabbed Silversnake. He'd just get some coffee in him, head on out, and solve this Shiva problem. He got it brewed quickly enough, taking a seat out in the front, looking at the dilapidated Stones that were slowly getting repaired. What had been the goddamned point of it all? A life as Alex was impossible, what was the point of even running this place, then? A brief thought of burning it down occurred to it, before he dismissed it. Sephiroth worked here. Alex was why he had an income. Regardless of how cold Sephiroth could be, Alex didn't see him as a bad guy, and at least it was one relationship that wasn't a crater by his own handiwork.

For Sephiroth's sake, he'd keep the place open, he told himself. He looked at the book, getting ready to stand up and cross out Noctis's and Prompto's name, but at the same time just didn't have the energy. As he sat himself back down instead, he took another sip of his coffee. He just needed to wake up is all. Get his system running and get to work. Yes, that was it. Just one step at a time. Coffee. Then work.

And then he got his jolt of energy as someone burst through the door. Instinct and adrenaline started pumping, and the crystalline swords of Fleche and Contre Six appeared behind him. He wouldn't use Abyssal Transfixion. Not yet at least. She was younger than him. Shouted names he knew, but it wasn't a face he recognized. What stood out to him was how many names she was missing, yet spoke with familiarity all the same. She hadn't been one of the Scions. Not current, nor any of the ones that Livia had massacred, returned to life. That left another possibility, one that had him seeing red. Or blue, considering the context of the situation. "Is that how it is?" He snarled, his voice a whisper as he stood up. "You think you can frame us for regicide then just come in all cheery like nothing happened, Crystal Brave?!" The nagging feeling at the back of his mind remained. He didn't recognize her as one of them either. At least as long as he'd been around. She may have come in after they were forced ro run. "Should've brought the entire godsdamned company. I'd happily wipe you all out!" He was raring to go. He wouldn't flee again.

This day already sucked ass.

Stories Sown Along the Way

tales of loss and fire and faith

Alex said nothing. That wasn't normal. No, it was never normal for Alex to simply sit and listen, now was it? Instead he waited, let her vent, let her rant, let her tell her little story. He kept his breathing even. Too many things wrong, too many details missed, too many things that simply didn't add up. Especially with her trying to act like she was him. She wasn't the first, and he was starting to wonder if she'd be the last. Were people from his world now arriving in droves, trying to claim what he'd bled for, for themselves? To make their lives easier? It was the only way, but then she demanded answers, threw a fit. And then he finally spoke. He forced his rage down, not smothering it, but not letting it explode, either. That, he figured, would be coming in the next few minutes.

The crystalline swords floated around him, spinning and twirling in a circle as if anticipating some measure of attack. "I only hear me me me. Never those your kind made to suffer." Only what she had been through, what she had suffered, and even then, things didn't add up. It didn't take him three years. He gingerly touched one of his arms. "Raubahn lost an arm." Before he moved it to his heart. "Papalymo lost his life." Because he wasn't strong enough to fight Shinryu then. It didn't matter if he was now, being strong enough now didn't bring Papalymo back. "And you're a child if you think Ala Mhigo deserved their fate." That was what she meant by Imperial Rule, no? She talked of her own suffering, never considering what it was like to be so utterly kicked into the ground that you gave up hope of rising back up. Even if he never agreed with the Ala Mhigans, he understood why they felt that way. Why Lyse had so much trouble.

He exhaled sharply, golden eyes boring into her. This was going to be a fight, he had a feeling. Fine, so be it. "The fucking nerve of you people coming in and claiming to be me. You come in here spouting lies and half truths, taking credit you deserve none of." They missed important details. They always missed important details. She was a distraction in the end, something to take care of on the way to the real problem. "I was going to deal with Yuna first, but if I have to tear you limb from limb on the way there, fine." She was likely one of Ilberd's, burned by his madness, now trying to capitalize on what she could. "Make your first shot count, Crystal Brave." Because he would do everything he could to make sure she wouldn't get a second.