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synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
dragonssung) wrote in synthneon2022-02-11 05:36 pm
Entry tags:
echoes of truth | ❝ tales of loss and fire and flame. ❞
Every word on our hearts engraved
In the dark you will not stray
Forge ahead, till the end, we pray
no subject
Clearly it is not Estinien, because he knows how the sound of the dragoon's voice. Finally, his eyes clear enough for him to get a proper look at Alkaid, and that is when it hits him: one of the Warriors of Light herself has joined him inside the cell, but for what purpose?
His mind is clouded enough that he has not realized what had a grip on him has temporarily dissolved, but he still has enough of his wits to know that something terrible has happened to him and to others as well.
He shakes his head and immediately regrets it, because the action is met with a severe pounding in his head. If his hands were not bound by chains, he would clasp one of them to his head, but all he can do is close his eyes and wait for the pounding to cease. When it does, he opens his eyes once more and does his best to meet her gaze, should she also open her eyes again. ]
No- Please, would... Would you stay? [ His right hand moves as if wanting to reach for her, but the chains hold it in place. Still, he strains against it, hoping to cause his bonds to give way just a fraction. ] Alkaid, I-
[ He very nearly chokes upon saying her name, as an emotion he does not entirely understand swells up inside him. ]
I'm sorry. [ He only has vague flashes of memory concerning what has happened in the past several hours, but he remembers enough to know that none of it was pleasant. Still, he cannot be sure how much she saw and what she might have heard, and that is the reason for his apology. ]
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The memory causes her eyes to snap open as that same fear grips her now.
What if I am unable to save Aymeric too?
Can she save him? Despite how much she wishes to deny it, the evidence is clear within his aether. It has stagnated and aligned to only one way. He is tempered... and she as well as the Scions know the clear signs of it. The shock of the situation has melted away into a sort of raw wound, causing her hand to shake once she fully accepts the situation in front of her. He is tempered as many must be in Ishgard.
Estinien said he would inform them of what happened, but, she feels as if she needs no knowledge. Only one primal in the world could have enthralled her knight with how strong his convictions are. Which means that, once more, they must end the visage of God-King that Aymeric's father became.
She watches as he shakes his head, her hand slowly moving upwards to his chest to heal the damage caused by Estinien's lance. Her gaze is there ready to meet his now, eyes glistening with water with the reality of the situation all crashing down upon her. The green glow of her healing magic subsides once she moves to speak, only to stop the moment that he speaks her name.
Her false name, that is.
While it logically should all align that he would not use her real name? She cannot help but feel as if the notch in her heart is chipped at again. The tremor in her hand increases and perhaps it is for her benefit he cannot see her properly. She has never been skilled enough to hide her emotions from him. ]
O-of course... a-always, as long as you want.
[ Her gaze lowers and eyes travel to the side at his hands. She leans upwards towards the chained hand so he might stroke one of her ears that remains folded to the back of her head. He had always been timid of touching them, but she knows it had usually calmed him in some manner.
She is careful not to touch him with her hands or rest of her body as she leans upwards. What if her touch agitated him and caused his wounds to ache more? He, to her, is still Aymeric, the one that she loves as much as she loves the star she walks on. In his current state? He may not see her as Lantaa or even one of the Saviors of Ishgard. All he might see is one of two Warriors of Light who bring about an end to primals and therefore his God-King.
Reduced to nothing more than the visage of a weapon. There is a bitter irony in it all. Aymeric had been the first leader to treat she and her sister as comrades and people. Now, she might be to him is what he disagreed with the Scions treating them as. ]
The pain may remain, but, I've healed most of the wounds you've received. I... [ She wants to do so much more, but knows she cannot. Not when he is tempered and a danger to those outside. The danger she is in never truly crosses her mind. ] I... Aymeric, I...
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I must tell you this, before it is too late... before I no longer know what it is that I am saying. [ Because he has at least the memory of harsh words that he threw at his dearest friend not very long ago, and he wishes to make himself clear before that happens once again, as he is certain it will. ]
I would have you here with me, but to ask that of you would be only placing you in harm's way, and I would sooner die than inadvertently bring harm to you.
[ There is a slight pause, and he adds: ] Lantaa.
[ If this is the last chance that he has to use her true name, then he will not hesitate in doing so. Then, his gaze dips as well, but the hand that rests upon her ear gives it one slow stroke, as if he is afraid of hurting her.
And, knowing that he is only contradicting himself, he forces himself to look up so that his eyes are locked on hers. ]
If you remain here, there is no telling what amount of danger you will be in.
[ A look of determination that is colored by no small amount of sadness is in his eyes as he looks at her. ] I am thankful for your healing, but for your safety, and because I could not bear it if I brought harm to you...
[ He hopes that if any of the gods are listening, they will hear him now, and keep her from taking what he says as a rejection, a sign that he no longer wishes for her to be with him. He hopes that this will be a temporary separation, that somehow, he will be freed of the influence that he is certain will assert itself soon. When this is all over, he hopes that she will still be there beside him, still wishing to be joined to him as his wife. ]
For your safety, perhaps you should reposition yourself on the other side of those bars.
[ Even as he speaks those words, he feels something deep inside him stirring, and there is a clawing at his mind that can only mean one thing: Thordan is attempting to regain his hold over Aymeric, and he cannot afford to have Alkaid with him when that happens. ]
Our time is short, I'm afraid. [ And with that knowledge looming over him, he gives her ear that is still within reach another fond stroke, as if he is trying to commit the feel of her to memory. He may not be able to hold on to much of himself or his memories when enthralled by the primal, but he has to try regardless. ]
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The hand not resting on his wound raises to his face, fingers gently resting below his chin. She gives the gentleness of nudges so he might look at her. Her bangs are pulled to the side to show the scar that had been left by Nidhogg, accompanied by the scar on one cheek from Gaius van Baelsar, and the opposite cheek one from Zenos yae Galvus. Those along with the long scar on her side he quite obviously would now already, but, it is more of a reminder that she has faced large and impossible things already.
His meaning of his words is not lost; for what he truly says is he could not bear the thought of him hurting her. Alkaid is full knowing of the fact that Aymeric could damage her in ways that no one else could. There are things only he knows of her--and should an enthralled person wish to--he could use them against her. Yet, she remains sat in front of him, leaning upwards into his hand and her eyes never leaving his.
Water gathers in her eyes at the use of her real name. She thought herself strong, given she had only ever cried in front of him when he had proposed. That illusion shattered upon her return from the Crystarium and Norvrandt and the hails of the Crystal Exarch. Yet, even with the physical changes hinting at the trauma that no one should ever face, Aymeric never turned her away. She was still--and still remains--Lantaa to him. How then could she abandon him? Especially once they have cured him. There is no doubt or question in her mind that will not achieve it.
Her tail curls against her. Would he still call her by her true name even as the primal takes him again? Or, will she only be the Warrior of Light in his mind? ]
I have kept you waiting for far too long. I will not leave you now. Not when--not now. [ Her head cants fully into his hand then. ] Not after everything.
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His gaze takes in each scar that she shows him, first one, then another, and finally the last one. He knows what it is she is trying to convey through actions and not words, and he ought to draw comfort from it, but the truth of the matter is that he fears being drowned out by the primal once more, of no longer being in control of himself, his actions, and his words.
She may very well walk away from this encounter; perhaps not whole and unscathed, but she will still be in control of herself. He, on the other hand, has the knowledge that at any time, he could lose the control he has managed to gain, and it will be taken over by another soul that is not so kind or considerate.
That clawing in his mind intensifies at that, as if to prove his point, and for just a moment, Aymeric closes his eyes against the push and pull that seems to be occurring between his will and the will of Thordan. ]
If I have not told you that I would wait a thousand years for your return, then I have been remiss indeed, because no period of time is too long. But for your own well-being, you must... You should retreat to the other side of the cell.
[ With an exhale of air, his head tips back briefly, reacting to the continued efforts of Thordan to wrest control back from him. It seems that it will not be long before the fragile hold he has on himself will be snatched away. ]
Lantaa, please... I must ask that you withdraw. [ Even as he beseeches her to leave him for her own safety, his fingers lightly ghost against the ear that is still within his reach. ]
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It has been long enough. No more. [ Not until they have saved him; until Ishgard is safe of all primals. Not until he can be home in the Manor where he ought to be, and not in a cell in Limsa. ] I've faced countless horrors with my sister. I will not leave you to fight these alone. Even if you can no longer even tell it's me...
[ Her eyebrows knit slightly as he tilts his head back and fingers ghost over her ear again. She would weather everything the universe could throw at her if it meant he be safe, and she most certainly has. This is no different... other than the ache it leaves in the bottom of her heart and soul.
Both hands move to either side of his face, gently guiding him to look at her once more. Finger tips glide over his cheeks as a way to reassure him that she will bring him home, no matter how far he goes. Their promise of marriage has seen her through the worst of times, and she would see the same done for him now.
A watery smile is given, even as she still refuses to let the tears fall. She leans forward the hair amount of distance it takes and presses her lips to his. He will not suffer in darkness alone and she will be the guiding light to bring him home. The Warrior of Light, his wife-to-be, simply the healer he knows. Whichever he needs she will be, even if it cripples her heart to do so. ]
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Even now, a part of him wishes he did not have to urge her to leave, or in the event of her failing to do as he has asked, that he will not have to beseech Estinien to remove her to safety. Selfishly, he wishes to keep her with him, but the part of him (or, well, the entirety of him, as the case may be) that loves her dearly and only wants to see her safe and well cannot abide that selfish wish.
Still, the struggle between what he desires and what is the right thing to do is plain on his face. His emotions threaten to choke him even as he draws a ragged breath so that he might speak to her while he still can. ]
I will not pretend that I have not missed you greatly in your absence, and if only I could be assured of your safety were you to remain. But I- I think too highly of you, and love you far too much to risk you in this fashion. That you have faced great dangers time and again is not lost on me, but I fear what will happen to you if you remain.
[ His head lowers then, his sliding closed momentarily as his emotions temporarily overcome him. If her heart is aching, then so is his, because he knows he will not be able to hold back the influence of the primal for long, and when his ability to keep it at bay fades, he fears that he will become unrecognizable.
Already he can feel Thordan's essence stirring in the back of his mind, and although he cannot discern intelligible words from his father turned god-king, he can hear wordless vocalizations regardless.
His eyes open once more when he feels Alkaid's hands move to position themselves on both sides of his face, and the ache in his heart only intensifies. It is not right that she must see him in this way, and yet he does not have the heart to drive her from the cell.
When she places that kiss on his lips, he cannot stop himself from leaning forward, pulling at the chains so that he might deepen the kiss, even as the chains digging into his wrists protest. They are not the only thing protesting, as Thordan has taken this moment to awaken and express his rage because the accursed Warrior of Light has decided to interfere once more.
Have you forgotten me so soon, my son? Again, the primal attempts to ensnare Aymeric with the lure of the love he has so desperately craved, and with a chastisement meant to manipulate that desperation into action.
As Thordan's words and control begin to pull at Aymeric's will once again, he makes one final attempt to repel the unwanted influence and remain himself, but his mental defenses have already taken several hits and the strain of trying to drive Thordan from his mind plays itself out in the form of a violent struggle. This is one thing he hoped to spare Alkaid from having to witness, but now that the fight has begun, there is little he can do.
His back arches, his head tipping back against the cell wall directly behind him, unwillingly breaking the kiss and the last bit of contact between himself and Alkaid. He strains at the chains holding him in place, but they do not budge, not even an inch. Instead, the pressure of the chains digging into his wrists draws blood, but Aymeric's straining efforts still do not cease.
Why do you fight me, Aymeric? Have you forgotten that I only wish to end all wars and bring peace to our lands once more? Thordan's wheedling words sink into Aymeric's mind, but he still desperately tries to resist just long enough that he might convey a desperate plea to Alkaid, if she is still listening. ]
Alkaid... [ He has just enough presence of mind to not use her true name, not wishing to give the primal more fuel to use against them both. ] Please- you must leave!
[ Then, Aymeric's eyes that had only been glowing dimly up to this point suddenly burst into a far brighter one, signifying that Thordan has successfully broken through his defenses and reclaimed his hold on him once more. But even so, Aymeric's struggle to free himself has not ended; in fact, his furious efforts to break the chains only increase in ferocity, driven by a mindless rage at those who would stand in the way of his goals. ]
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If he is distraught for her to see him in such a state? Perhaps it is good she has not yet divulged the details of her most recent time away.
Her ears lift only slightly as he returns the kiss, adjusting so he must not lean so far forward. It would take hours, if not days, to properly heal all that has been done to him. She would not have him anymore injured on her account. As soon as she moves, she feels him pull away. Her eyes snap open and widen at his reaction. Ears tucked to her head once again as he starts to pull at his chains violently. Immediately her hands go to his, fingers wrapping around his hands to hold them still.
The force in his motions is almost shocking, causing her own hands to tighten and the force felt all the way through her arms. Her head tilts down so she may lock her gaze with his. Then, she anchors herself with her knees, making the point that she will not budge even as his eyes brighten to a form of light she has only seen once.
For the briefest of moments her mind snaps back to those distant lands of Norvrandt, seeing malformations and thr screams of those being tormented into shapes they ought not to be. Her hands shake as her vision is filled with white alabaster skin and feathers falling...
Another tug of his hands snaps her back from the lands and her gaze focuses on him once more. Alkaid's eyes narrow. The light in his eyes is not the same as then--it belongs to a foe she faced with her sister long ago. ]
Aymeric, please, stop! You'll only hurt yourself more!
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Finally speaking aloud once again, the vulnerability that was in his voice replaced by a thinly veiled tone of rage, Aymeric pulls even harder at the chains that are holding him in place. ] How can I stop when the safety of those whom I have sworn to protect is at stake?
[ His true self has been all but silenced by Thordan's influence, but the small remnant that remains mostly whole reminds him that Ishgard has found peace with the ending of the Dragonsong War, and that Thordan wishes to manipulate Ishgard's people into being drawn into a war that would see even more lives lost.
But those reminders do not land as well as they would have, if not for the voice of the primal doing its level best to keep Aymeric's mind and will bound to its malevolent cause.
Although she has wrapped her hand around his, in hopes of holding them in place, he continues to pull and twist, as if he can bend the chains through sheer force of will. The action only causes the cuts forming on his wrists to widen and grow deeper, but he is so focused on his action that he pays no mind to the drops of blood that begin falling onto the surface of the chains.
Clearly, the primal has little care for Aymeric's physical well-being, although he would not make a very useful subject if he is too injured to even move. Still, things have not degraded to that point, and so Thordan keeps up a relentless stream of commentary designed to keep Aymeric fighting until he breaks free or either the meddling Warrior of Light or the equally bothersome dragoon intervene. ]
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While she is unsure of how much the current summoned incarnation of Thordan knows or remembers of her and her sister's deeds? She is certain the knowledge within the minds of Ishgardians of how they slew the Archbishop gives enough fuel to enrage the primal.
Alkaid closes her eyes and forces the lump of emotions in her throat down. Her hands over his spread, fingers finding their way to release his curled fists before sliding in between his. Then, with an unexpected force, her hands clamp onto his and shove his hands to the stone wall behind them. She leans her whole body weight into the motion, chest practically pressed into his as if her body weight might impede his. The two-toned eyes lock with his glowing ones as she presses their hands to the wall. ]
How could you ever lead them like this?! [ There is a hiss in her voice, eyes narrowed, and putting all she might into her motions and words. ] What sort of Commander pushes himself to the brink to be utterly useless to his people?!
[ Her forehead presses to his to make certain he can look nowhere else. He may not see her, but she expects nothing else. Everything that is them has been second to duty. Except, now she puts her duty to him above all else. ]
Your God-King must be truly foolish to waste such an asset like you; making you unable to fight by thrashing around like a wild animal. Stop and breathe a moment, Aymeric.
... no one would heed you in war as you are unable to fight beside them like this. Please, allow me to help.
no subject
What he does have is an image burned into his mind of a time not very long ago in which he asked the Warriors of Light to put a stop to his father by ending his life. Within that image, he does not see the faces of the two sisters that his true self had grown to love, but rather, the menacing images of those who slay primals without hesitation. And with that image comes a strong current of rage, because they dared to challenge the might of King Thordan, and would do so again if given the opportunity.
Rather than answer with words, Aymeric responds with an enraged roar that is a far cry from the articulate yet unpresumptuous way in which he would speak. There are no words in this outburst, just the unbridled fury of one whose mind has been wholly overpowered by a being far greater than himself.
When she presses herself against him, clamping her hands down onto his and attempting to hold them still, he thrashes even harder against her restraining efforts, but somehow, even though he has the might of a primal fueling him, he cannot manage to free himself.
Finally, he answers, and when he does, his tone is steely and harsh, with none of the warmth with which he usually speaks. ]
You, help me? [ A laugh, cutting and cold, bursts from him then. ] You cannot help me, not as you presently are.
[ Thordan chooses that moment to cut in, chastising Aymeric for even entertaining such an idea. The Warrior of Light will never be our ally. How foolish to even consider that she might be swayed to our goals. Abandon such thinking, because nothing will ever come of it. ]
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She puts more of her weight onto her knees and more force into her hands to keep his to the wall. Alkaid locks her gaze with his, a strong resolve yet gentleness trying to make contact with him. The lack of warmth in his voice is instantly noted and she dimly wonders if this is how his enemies precieve him. ]
In my present state, is it? What must I do to be able to help you? [ Her forehead still presses to his even if she has laxed the pressure. If nothing else? She has gotten him to speak to her.
Her forefinger raise to gently brush against his fingers as her voice lowers to softer tones. ] You are bleeding, Aymeric. Your body is bruised and unable to move as you need it. How can you ever hope to serve like this?
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In the midst of war, warriors and soldiers are not the only ones who are needed. There is a need for healers, for menders as well. [ It is a strange contrast, because not long ago, Aymeric had railed against the idea of needing a healer, but it is not himself that he thinks about now, but his people. ]
If you were to see that the only way to bring about lasting peace is to ensure that every one of our enemies is swayed to our cause, then perhaps you could be of assistance. Those who will not be convinced must be dispatched for the safety of Ishgard. There will be casualties, and those requiring healing, as there always is in war, and that is where you would come in.
[ Strangely, the longer he speaks, the more his violent struggles lessen, as if he has hopes of winning her over to his way of thinking. But when she draws attention to his wounds and his inability to move, something snaps inside him once more. ]
Were you there when I was held inside the Vault? Did you witness what was done in order to extract information from me? [ He knows that she saw the aftermath, but nothing before that. ]
If I could find the strength to rally after such a trial, do you not believe that I am incapable of continuing to serve after this? [ If his hands were freed, he would make a sweeping gesture down his person, as if to say that what wounds he has sustained can be endured in order that he might be of use to Ishgard and her people. ]
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Her gaze never drifts to the side, but it s clear that she is mulling over his thoughts--simply not in the way he has phrased it. What if she could act on their side? Something covert, in the guise that she would join him in Ishgard. The Blessing of Light keeps her ever from being tempered; akin to a shield from Hydaeyln herself. However, she could make it seem as if she were willingly joining the side of Thordan. She and K'thisru. Just long enough to get inside the city and find Thordan... ]
What would I gain from it? [ Her eyes lock back to his brilliantly glowing ones. ] Ishgard would have peace... and her people safe. But, what of me? You know as well as I that I am not of Ishgard. Why would your God-King ever allow me to aid you, let alone live in the city afterwards? What of what I want?
[ He opened it as if it were negotiations after all.
The statement he makes next, however, truly catches her off guard. Her eyes widen at the words. It almost as if he had found a weakness in her own armor to plunge a knife into her heart. She does not let go of his hands, but she does pull back, if only so her shoulders might curl as if she has been struck. ]
N-no, I wasn't... [ Her voice trembles and water gathers in her eyes. Her own tail bristles in upset but it is clear there is sorrow in her expression and not anger.
She had expressed her upset at being unable to heal him at his assassination attempt, but never has she expressed what panic and hurt she had for being unable to heal his wounds from the Heavens Ward. Would there have been a point when he knew how upset she was at being bared from healing him? ]
Y-you went to attempt to speak reason with your father... and gave us no room to chase... t-they took you away before I--we could do anything... [ Alkaid's eyebrows knit then. ] Your father let them torture you--his only son! J-just because you... you knew... they would not let me heal you... either time...
You... you always find a way to serve Ishgard... but, please, Aymeric... let me heal you this once...
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It seems as though having something to think upon and negotiate, if that is what it is, has given him something else to focus on. ]
What would you gain from it? [ For the first time since he awoke in this cell, he smiles. As was the case with his voice, his smile is not his customary smile either. There is a hardness to it, a certain kind of edge that has never been present before. ] You will find yourself stronger than ever before, and your healing gifts will be more effective than they have ever been.
[ He clearly is not gifted in the healing arts, but in spite of the fact that Estinien did manage to overpower him and trap him in these chains, he knows that having Thordan with him has given him a greater strength than he has ever known. But it seems as though relying on brute force alone has not gotten him the results he wishes for, so he is relying on his words to navigate this present situation.
He watches closely to see her reaction to the words he threw at her, knowing that they were very likely to bring her up short. The smile he wears widens just a fraction but it does not remain in place for long, when something unexpected happens.
No sooner does Alkaid begin speaking of those events that happened that led to his being imprisoned in the vault than Aymeric abruptly stiffens.
An image not brought about by Thordan's influence has just burst into his mind... Or rather, it is a confusing blur of images: the Heavens Ward dragging him into the Vault, a fist traveling rapidly toward him to strike a blow, another set of chains encircling his hands, and at the very end of it all, a curtain of red flashing through the air as someone's blow draws blood.
For just a moment, rather than respond, Aymeric's eyes slide closed and all movement stills. Thordan, meanwhile, tries to force him to rally from whatever is causing his lapse into silence and stillness both.
But for all of Thordan's efforts, the combination of the overwhelming force of that sudden surge of memories and the lingering effects of Aymeric's wounds has temporarily rendered him motionless. ]
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You forget, my love. Strength and power has never been what drives me; what it is I long for. [ Her head shakes ever so slightly. ] I am one of but a few white mages that walk our star... and it draws power from the very star around us. Should I wish? I could weave the strongest of protection spells and the strongest destruction spells the magick has to offer.
There surely must be something else you might yet offer.
[ What he might offer is so simple and plain in her mind, yet she tests him to see if he might yet understand it. She simply desires to be with him. In the bottom of her heart she knows he will most likely not find that conclusion. Even more so, she knows the primal would never allow him to even consider the option. Yet, she hopes against all odds, that he might realize it. That some part of him will remember, and that she may use that to help him fight against the influence of the primal his father had created.
Her eyes widen the moment he stills and his eyes slip shut. A sense of panic raises in her at that moment. Without a word her hands pull from his to hold his head in between them. Her heart pounds loudly in her head as she tilts his head back. ]
Aymeric...? Aymeric!
[ His breathing has not stilled, nor any pulse from what she can tell. She can sense the stagnant aether still within him as well. Had she caused this? Had Thordan? ]
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He has no awareness of Alkaid taking his head in her hands, nor of her efforts to rouse him. His breathing remains slow but steady right up until the very moment when consciousness crashes back down upon him once more, and his chest begins to heave as it becomes labored and erratic.
And with his return to the waking world comes a chance for Thordan to wrest control away once again. Gone is the calm sort of lucidity that he had had before he lost consciousness. In its place is the same animalistic rage that threatens to see more bruises begin to form and cause more injuries on top of the already existing ones.
Still, even with the might of Thordan driving him, the force with which Aymeric now moves is lesser than before, as if he is being worn down by these prolonged struggles. The rage is there, but the strength is beginning to wane.
As it is, the chains are as implacable as ever, and they have not budged an inch. ]
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She keeps cradling his head in hopes to calm or ease what surely is a struggle of body and mind. She holds him even as he begins to struggle and thrash about. However, her gaze becomes gentle as his struggles continue. Alkaid shifts so she might pull him to rest his head on her shoulder. One hand goes to his hair and begins to smooth down the strands that have been frazzled. ]
Hush now, Aymeric. You'll strain yourself to the point you cannot fight for anyone, let alone any holy cause. Your God-King may not care for your state of being--only the end goal--but you said yourself war would need of healers. If you truly believe I might be of use to your cause... allow me to start here. With you. That way you may prove to any who doubt.
[ After a few more moments, her hand moves to the wrist in the cuff from his hair. Her fingers gently slide between the skin and cuff, lightly with the gentle green and white glow she is known for. Of course, should he push against her fingers in a way to move the cuffs? He will surely cause her harm as well.
Not that it much matters in her mind. ]
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As if he senses this, Thordan resumes his efforts to rally Aymeric and jolt him back to a more alert state.
Who else but you can lead the charge, Aymeric? None other but you has the strength and the will to do what must be done, that Ishgard will finally see peace. You must keep fighting, or this warrior, this slayer of primals, will see that our goals are never met.
The clash of Thordan's words and Alkaid's causes Aymeric to feel as though he is being pulled first to one side, then the other, and he does not know whose voice he ought to heed. In spite of what his true self might want, his aether is being pulled increasingly more into alignment with Thordan's, and with it, his will is beginning to dwindle even further.
The glowing in his eyes seems to grow even brighter as Thordan's hold on him grows stronger, but even then, Aymeric's struggles do not end.
He opens his mouth as if he wishes to speak, perhaps to further express how much he wishes to fight for Ishgard, to defend the city that he loves so much, and to not be anyone's puppet, not even Thordan's. But his will is just as ensnared as his aether, and he cannot form those words.
Instead, a wordless, despairing moan escapes him, and although Thordan cannot directly address Alkaid, he forces Aymeric to speak for him. ]
You speak as if you know my father's thoughts.
[ As before, Aymeric's tone is hard and cold, but it is Thordan forcing Aymeric's speech, not allowing him to choose his own words. And even now, he still thinks of the God-King as his father, or perhaps that is the primal's influence causing his words to further turn. ]
Sacrifices are always required in times of war, and the great, as well as the small, are needed.
[ But now that it seems as though Aymeric's will to fight back has been overpowered by Thordan's, the God-King sees little reason to continue taxing him in such a way, going against his earlier attempt to urge his son to continue the fight. And while agreeing with the accursed Warrior of Light is not something he wishes to do, there truly is no need to foolishly waste the value Aymeric brings to the table by injuring him to the point that he can no longer move.
Now he just has to wait for an opportunity to open, for either Alkaid or Estinien to lower their guard, and perhaps an escape attempt can be made. ]
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How can I not have an inkling of them? It was he who first wished to use what the Ascians taught him to fulfill his own goals. It was he who did not let any stand in his way, whether the be Scion, Temple Knight, Ascian, or even his own son.
Had he cared for the state you were in? He would not have let them take you to the Vault. He would not be forcing you to press so hard that you draw blood.
[ She gently leans her head against his and continues to brush her fingers through his hair. While she hopes above all hope that they will save him? A part of her knows this may be the last time she might make such a motion. It causes the invisible dagger in her heart to sink just a hair deeper and her eyes to shut tightly to avoid any tears from forming. ]
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Even Thordan attempts to force Aymeric to be his mouthpiece seem to fail. For just a moment, Aymeric's eyes close yet again and after a moment or two, they open once more and when they do, the bright glow in them has faded back to their normal color.
His shoulders drop as the weakness he feels crashes back down on him, but he can finally see her as her: the woman he has fallen in love with. With no small amount of effort, he strains to raise his head so that he might look her in the eyes. ]
... Lantaa?
[ His voice is low, and even as he speaks her name, he feels himself having to fight to hold onto consciousness.
He is still unable to move his hands beyond the small amount of give the chains have, but the stinging in his wrists reminds him of the damage his desperate struggles have already done, even with her efforts to heal.
It is almost as though he knows this may be their last moment together with him still retaining his sense of self, and if it truly is, then he wants to at least say goodbye. ]
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The sound of her name makes her eqrs lift just a bit. Not just her name, but how he says it as well. The hand in his hair moves to the side of his head to help suport him once he looks at her. Her other hand moves from his wrist to his hand proper, fingers sliding to hold his once again.
Alkaid forces a smile for him. He has seen her come undone and cry far too many times already. She will not break now, when he needs her as both herself and the Warrior of Light. Her forehead rests to his ever so gently, eyes locked on his. She hopes he might see the love she has for him even if she has never been able to express it properly. ]
Hello, my brave knight. [ That invisible dagger edges just slightly deeper. ] What can I do to help you, my love? Even if it is simply being here with you through it all. I will see it done.
[ Her tail, despite it all, sways gently beside her as if to help illustrate her point and how much she loves him. ]
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The first thing he says in reply is an apology. ] I am sorry that you must be here to witness this. [ He remembers offering an apology once before, but he feels as though he has to do so again. ]
I- I have no need for anything from you, because you have given so much to me already.
[ But he has one thing he wishes to tell her, so he tightens his fingers against hers as best as he can, and then he says: ] I want you to know that no matter what happens, no matter how this ends, that I love you.
[ He manages a smile for her, the biggest smile that he can give. ] I will always love you.
[ Even if he leaves this star, he wants to make that plain, in hopes that it will give her comfort if he does not return from this.
And then he pushes himself forward just a little so that he might brush his lips against hers, but he wishes to kiss her once more, so the effort is worth it in his mind. ]
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No, it is for the best I am here. You should not face this alone. No one ever should. [ She presses her forehead to his and offers a smile once again. ] And I love you. Now and always.
[ She is certain that even once her soul returns to the aetheric sea and is reborn? She would seek his out. No matter where or who they might be next. She cannot imagine loving another soul other than his.
The smile falters for a moment as her breath catches in her throat. One would need to oblivious to how Aymeric is to not understand what he is trying to say. Still, she forces her smile wider and tears gather in the corner of her eyes as she meets his kiss. It is a gentle and tender one, trying to put all of the love she feels in a tangible form for him to feel.
Even when it ends, she keeps herself as close as she was. Her tail sways faster, venting out the emotions she is trying to contain for his sake. ]
Alisaie believes she has found the start of a cure. I know the others are looking into it as we speak--we'll find a way to save you; to save everyone in Ishgard and anyone else from other primals. I know we will ... I promise we will.
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But it is not safe for you to remain. [ He also shakes his head carefully, not wishing to dislodge her hands or to pull away from her. ] At any time, I could lose control of myself, and there is no telling what will happen. You are far too important to be risked in such a way, Lantaa.
[ His emotions are rising, threatening to choke him, but he presses on. He leans into the kiss to the best of his ability, but when the kiss ends, he continues speaking, all the urgency he can manage clear in his voice. ]
This cure must be used to save Ishgard and all who have been tempered. [ For just a moment, his eyes slide closed as his emotions sweep over him. Though he does not say it, he believes that the cure will work- it must. But he fears that the hold the primal has on him is far too strong for it to do the same for him.
When his eyes open once more, they are clear, and his resolve is plain to be seen. ]
If I could be present for this fight, to lend what help I could, I would.
[ And he remembers then something he once said to her: that the salvation of Ishgard does not rest in his hands, but in the hands of others. And now that seems clearer to him than ever before. ]
You and the Scions will save Ishgard once again. I have no doubt of it.
[ Whether he is saved (an outcome he finds highly unlikely) or whether he is lost for good, he is certain that they will do everything in their power to reverse what has been done.
His only regret is that he lacks the strength to work alongside them to that end. ]
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