Everheart: Chapter 11

The card of the aetheryte tower exploded into sparkling streams of aether, and the card of the emerald turned on its' side.  The Warrior bellowed a victorious laugh as he pointed at the cards on the table, his horns and wide maw looking almost demonic as they were cast in the shadows of the sun's fading light that pierced the windows.

"There it is!  Separate them, and Serafine dies first!"

With a solemn expression, the Lady waved her hand along the table, and several candles appeared from nothing, already lit and casting their dancing light along the small home's walls.

"Emera yet lives...if only barely.  Though her will to maintain this life may be diminished without her beloved at her side."

"And what of Amani?"

The Lady gestured to the card of the lion-crest, "The Nobleman will toy with her, and when she learns of Emera's impending death, the guilt may yet undo her."

A long pause, as the Warrior folded his arms and looked lost in thought.  "We agree, and we are pleased.  Watch, and wait."

"Would that it did not need to come to this."

The Warrior grunted and turned an irritated gaze upon The Lady, "They knew the conditions by which we empowered them.  They broke this covenant, and in so doing spat on all of us!  You Twelve are far too concerned with their pain, we think."

"Perhaps we are.  Or perhaps you are not concerned enough."

The two figures looked upon each other in a long, tension,filled silence, before returning their attention to the cards between them.

"Our will...be done."

"So...you've been sick, constantly?"

Selah nodded as the gray haired lalafellan man pressed his finger to the veins of her wrist.  He moved a step stool before her, giving himself the height needed to meet her face to face.

"Let's have a look at your throat."

She opened her mouth as wide as possible while the smallkin continued his examination.  A small ball of aetherial light formed in his palm, which slowly floated into her throat for illumination.

"But no coughing, sore throat, sneezing?"

"No.  Just nausea and vomiting, daily."

The healer scratched at his grayed beard, looking preoccupied with thought.

"Let's check your ears.  Turn your head."

Selah obeyed, and the healer created another ball of light in his palm, which adjusted in size to fit into her long, pointed ear.  Ginal looked on as she nervously ran her hands through her blonde hair, her tail whipping about to echo the apprehension on her face.

"Are you finding what's wrong with her, Zazamio?"

The small man shook his head after a long moment, then moved his stool to allow himself to examine Selah's other ear.

"No...nothing here, either."

Zazamio hopped down and paced about the small room, tapping his chin with repeated "hmms."  Selah lied back on bed she was sitting on, holding her stomach.

"Tell me, Amani, how much have you been eating?  More than normal?"

"Ah...yeah, I'd say so.  But I've been trying to get more exercise, so that would make me hungry, right?"

Zazamio nodded, "Hmm...you do look like you've gained weight since I've last seen you."

The red heat of embarrassment washed over Selah's features, and Ginal's expression grew even more worried.

"Yeah, well...that's why the exercise."

The lalafell tapped at his chin.  "Hmm...  Let me examine your stomach."  He went to the elezen's side and, with eyes closed, pressed his hands to her tunic-clad abdomen with hands aglow in aether.  "mmhmm..."

"What is it, Zaza?" the miqo'te inquired while her blond-furred tail twitched anxiously.

The healer's eyes popped open, a mischievous grin curling onto his lips.  "Yep.  Congratulations, Amani, you're pregnant."

Pregnant?  By all the gods in all the aetherial heavens, how was that possible?  There had to be some mistake.

"Pregnant?!"  Ginal's hands balled into fists so tight, her knuckles glowed white-hot.  "Who in all the hells have you been sleeping with, Amani?!"

"SERAFINE!"  Zazamio's voice boomed from his small frame, his eyes ablaze with white-blue fire as his presence was suddenly enough to fill out the entire room.

Ginal shrank back, the expression of anger morphing into one of apology.  "I-I'm sorry..."

"Good."  Zazamio turned to Selah on the bed, "Now, there have been no others?"

"No, I promise it."

"Mmhmm... Serafine, tell me truly, have you and your wife been intimate after your body changed?"

The miqo'te's blank expression spoke volumes in place of her silence.  "Um...Well, yes..."

"And I assume you two have been exploring your recent endowments?"

Both women's faces turned a shade of crimson so profound, they could have been mistaken for whistling tea-kettles.  The smallkin looked between the two as they nodded the affirmative.

"Then congratulations to you as well, Serafine.  Your wedding tackle works like any male's."  

Zazamio sauntered from the room, chuckling to himself, "This world just keeps getting stranger.  I'll never be out of work."

Ginal came to her wife's side, offering an apologetic and sheepish smile.  "I'm sorry..."

"I forgive you.  It's a shock for me, as well."  Selah took her wife's hand, and put it to her stomach.  "So..."

"Yeah... I don't know what to say..."

"How about you tell me we're headed to lunch?"  Selah smiled, and accepted the loving kiss of her wife.  "I love you, Serafine."  

A half-breed child, conceived of a hermaphroditic mother... Of all the things in life to claim as an accomplishment, this seems as good as any.

"I love you, Amani."



Weightlessness and free falling.  A disorienting sensation, with no sound or visual to support it.  Just a dizzying darkness, followed by a hard, blunt pain. 

Selah's eyes shot open as the breath was kicked from her lungs, staring up at the bright morning sky.  Her back ached and her head swam as she frantically looked about for answers.  Dinornis' head entered her field of vision, the war bird's gentle cawing signifying his concern for his flock mate.  She must have dozed off and slipped out of the saddle.  Embarrassing as all hells.

"Yeah...I'm alright."

And what in the hells was with that dream?  Another one of those bizarre nightmares where she was an elezen, and Ginal was blonde.  This one, though, was proof that a dream didn't need violence or desperation to be a nightmare.  Being pregnant?  Selah shuddered at the thought.  No, thank you.  Once was too much for this life.

Her companion nuzzled her as she sat up to survey the surrounding landscape with shielded eyes.   A long walkway of paved stone, surrounded by large, healthy trees and scores of wildflowers.  Crags and slopes of jagged gray rock, with large formations of blue, glowing crystal protruding.  Towering walls and spires of smooth, carved stone, with banners of purple and gold flying overhead.

Revenant's Toll, the only presence of Eorzean civilization on the untamed frontier of Mor Dhona.

How long has it been?  A year at least, maybe two. Stepping up to the interior gate, she could see that what used to be just a defensible outpost had grown into a full and true city of its own.

The road of stone continued on, snaking and splitting its way through the fortress-city.  Immediately ahead, to her right, stood a stone-built merchant's stall the size of house.  Bronze-skinned hyur women dressed in earth-toned loincloths and small halter-tops tended the shop,  She couldn't make out the words, but the women seemed to be trading with a throng of rowdy adventurers and mercenaries, handing over weapons of strange technological design, or others that looked to be crafted of rare metals and crystals, with aether flowing off them so heavily that she could feel it.  She couldn't see beyond the stall, for it was so large that it blocked the city behind it from her view.

Ahead and to the left, the road snaked into what seemed to be a town square of sorts, forming a circle around the unmistakable tower of swirling and thrumming aetheryte.  There were signs overhead of heavy wooden doors carved into the omnipresent stone walls that made up much of the city, promising inns and bars.  She guessed that the other, unidentified doors and stairways she spotted belonged to homes.

"Good morning, ma'am."

Selah looked over at the gray-skinned roegadyn man towering over her, and offered a polite nod.

"Good morning."

The man was dressed in a long, bulky coat that was lined with straps and buckles that ran the garment's length, keeping it closed.  Thick, black gloves covered his hands, and a tall, wide brimmed hat rested upon his head.  It the standard uniform of the Grand Companies, except this one was blue, a color she had never seen on this uniform before.

Ask about it later.  There's a bastard to find.

"I'm looking for a healer named Burnished Snow."

"Ah, yeah, I know 'im."  The soldier turned and pointed ahead and off the path, at a section of the great stone wall. "Somewhere o'er there, one o' them doors is his clinic."

Selah smiled at the sound of the Lominsan brogue.  It was such a delightful accent that was sorely missed in Gridania.  But the smile faded as she looked upon the area of her destination.

It's time to get this over with.  I refuse to live with this shadow over me.  I'll be damned if you'll own me anymore, you sociopathic piece of shit.  If it's really you, I'm going to march right in and demand a divorce.  Nothing's going to keep me from being happy anymore, and nothing's going to keep me from the bonding I really want.  I'm not that weak child anymore, and I'll gladly show you how hard I can hit back.  And the only dick that'll be in me belongs to my Ginal.  She's bigger than you, anyway.

Selah allowed herself a smug smile.  Sunlight reflected off the band of rose gold on her finger, drawing her gaze.  The smile turned to a morose frown as an aching sensation took hold of her heart.

But if this is a con game, and someone's trying to pose as Geoffrey for some reason, oh I'll tear them apart.  I'm not to be toyed with or manipulated.  I won't be used for personal gain.  Not even by you, mother.  Gods damn you for pushing me into that bonding to begin with.  And for what, a dowry and stipend?  Some prestige at having your pretty little daughter married off to the Manor's new lord?  To try to teach me to "grow out of being queer?"  

Her lips twisted into a sneer at the thought.

"I get it, Selah!  I godsdamned get it, you don't care for men!  And in my heart, that's not even an issue"

Why did you say that?  Where, at every other point in my life, you've made it very clear that I carry only your disapproval.  That I was never a good enough child for you, that I was too intellectual, or liked women too much, or not faithful enough.  Gods damn, Charlotte, did you ever love me?

And why the fuck did you need to travel across half the continent to find me?  Did you somehow sense that I was finally happy?  Or did you simply feel a need to make sure your daughter wasn't getting laid anymore?  Knowing you, it was probably in some vain hope that by reuniting Geoffrey with his "darling" bride, that somehow his family fortune might still exists.  Well, that money, the prestige and the titles can all burn in the seven hells.  I want nothing to do with any of it.

Selah blinked rapidly, realizing that she had been marching through the city, pushing her way through the groups of adventurers and other denizens of the place with Dinornis trailing behind.  She was almost upon the area in which the soldier had said Burnished Snow should reside.  A short search of the address plates by the doors, and she'd be set.

Up and down the sets of stairs, finding residences and workshops, but no healer's clinic.  At the fifth door she came upon, she found the plaque that read "Burnished Snow: residence and clinic."  With a deep, slow breath in, she grit her teeth and then exhaled just as slowly.  She pounded the wooden door with her fist.

Yes, that's exactly what I'll do.  I'll stay just long enough to tell him what kind of a whoreson he really is, and demand a divorce.

Rapid, angry breaths and a tightly clenched jaw.  Fists balled so tight, the bones threatened to crack.

His face manifested in her mind.  That chin that proudly jutted out.  Those eyes that shone with equal parts intelligence, ambition, and arrogance.  That meticulously trimmed goatee, and the grin that proudly boasted how he knew something you didn't.

Gods, I loath Geoffrey.

She saw her hand connecting to the side of his face, and could almost feel the sudden resistance of cheek versus hand.  It wasn't the open-palmed smack of an insulted woman, but rather the back-handed slap that told a person to learn they were beneath you.

The same kind that he had used against her so many times.

Selah snorted derisively as she waited, and at last the sturdy wooden door creaked open.  What was easily the most unusual image of a roegadyn looked upon her.  Instead of towering over her, he stood only about a head taller, and instead of the normal muscle set upon muscle, this man's nearly blood-red frame was small, almost thin.  Perhaps this man was a healer because of a lack of options.

"Can I help you, madam?"

"I'm Selah Phocina."

The heale's face lit up, "Ah, wonder-"

"Where is he?" her tone was sharp and short.

Burnished was clearly taken aback.  "Ah, your husb-"

"Geoffrey."

"Ah... Yes, Geoffrey is here."

He stepped back and opened the door wide, gesturing down a hallway behind him.  Selah marched into the dwelling, her eyes fixed down the indicated hall as the healer had barely enough time to back away and not be shoved aside.

"He's down there?"

"Ah, yes madam, the final door down the hall."

Alright you son of a bitch, time to face me.  Maybe I'll just kick your sorry ass around a little for the hells of it, too.  It's about time someone did, I'm sure.

She stormed ahead and reached for the doorknob, quickly opening the door.  There was a small bed, enough for a hyur to lay in comfortably, and a single window allowed the sunlight through.

"I'm here.  You better make it quick, you sorry bas-"

Selah's mind finally processed what her eyes beheld.  If this was Geoffrey, he was entirely unrecognizable.  One arm, no legs, and almost the entirety of his body wrapped in bandages.  What small patches of skin were visible looked burned, scarred and half-melted.  Even his eyes were concealed by a dressing of bandages.

"Not what you were expecting." his voice, raspy and broken, only somewhat above a whisper.

She realized that she had been staring, and that her mouth had hung open.  She collected herself, drew in a steadying breath, and looked upon the broken shell before her.

"No...I'd say it isn't."

"This is why I've been here for almost six years.  My body is too broken for me to leave."

Despite herself,  pangs of sorrow and pity tore through her heart, and she had to look away.

You were a horrible man to me, Geoffrey, but I can admit that nothing you ever did to me broke me so completely.  Aside from those scars on my back, I came out rather hale.

Did you deserve this?  Does anyone?  I... I feel sorry for you.

Disbelief and disgust washed over Selah.

Gods, that I can feel this way.  Am I really as strong as I thought?  Or have I merely become soft in all the wrong ways?

"Can we just...get this over with, Geoff?"

Geoffrey's struggling laugh turned into a wheezing cough, and he offered a weak smile.

"Very well... As pieces of my memory have returned, I've asked Burnished Snow to serve as my eyes and ears with the world outside.  He's done quite an admirable job at this, and has kept me well informed of many things."

Selah looked over to see the healer bowing in humility, though the man must have known his patient couldn't see it.

"And?"

"And, I've learned that Ishgard has returned to rebuild Falcon's Nest."

Briefly, a pang of nostalgia shot through her.  Messenger falcons constantly going hither and yonder amid pale blue skies.  Hunting parties of noble knights singing songs of victory over the dragons in the local pub.  Her father wiping the sweat from his brow as he hauled sacks of freshly milled grain, and offering her another honey-cream roll before dinner, that as always, would remain between father and daughter.

Eyes filled with contempt and arrogance that bore into her own, as that condescending and commanding voice told her that she was now property.

Selah shook herself from her memories.  "What of it?"

The patient drew in an unsteady breath, "If the Holy See places some random noble or knight-commander to oversee Falcon's Nest, it will serve as nothing but another military outpost for continuing the war against the Dragons.  But if I could return to Ishgard, and reclaim my family's status, then I could become commander of the reconstruction effort."

"Nophica's tits, get to the POINT Geoffrey!"

Silence filled the small room, and time felt as if it had temporarily halted.  Burnished Snow was positively stunned, while a small grin formed upon Geoffrey's lips.

"I want to restore Falcon's Nest as a place to live again, Selah.  A place the people we lived alongside in our younger days can return to, in spite of the Calamity, to prove the indomitable spirit of our people.  Think of it, Selah.  As I understand it, the citizens of Falcon's Nest survive among the poor and disenfranchised of Ishgard, struggling to survive off the diminishing good will of the ruling nobility."

Geoffrey struggled to push himself part way up, facing toward Selah.  His lips turned in a dismal scowl.  "Few among Coerthas' denizens worked harder for the nation, and took more pride in their contributions, than the farmers, falconers and millers of our home.  They deserve better.  I can give them that."

It was absolutely true.  Those of the home village had always worked tirelessly for Ishgard and her settlements.  To think that they were now so degraded as to be beggars and slum rats... 

"And what do you need me for?  I have no intention of returning to Coerthas."

The patient lied back with a strained grunt.  "I assumed.  From what I gather, you have quite a life for yourself, now.  Respected member of the primal-slaying Scions, and a dragoon who has put many of our cousins from Coerthas to shame with your unprecedented raw talent.  Even the lover you have taken has quite a reputation for herself."

Selah's carefully stoic expression twisted into an angry snarl.  Her heart began to thunder in her chest, and a hand instinctively reached for the lance harnessed on her back.  "What do you know?"

Another strained laugh that quickly decayed into a hacking cough.  "If you're worried I'm angry, I'm not.  That is your path, and I am glad you have something to make you happy.  Gridania's Emerald Lancer is, perhaps, the only one suitable for our Sapphire Dragoon, anyway."

Her grip on her weapon relaxed, and she noticed the look of relief on the healer's face.  Was he afraid of a violent outburst?  Well, had a threat been leveled against Ginal, that fear would be very, very validated.

"My point is, Selah, that you are among the few, if not the only one, who is capable of doing what needs done to put me back together, so that I can return to rebuild Falcon's Nest."

Coerthas would benefit more from mills, farms and hunters than it would from another fortress.  If there was anyone with the stubborn arrogance needed to tame the frozen wastes that used to be her home, it was Geoffrey.

"Alright... I'll help you."

Geoffrey's lips turned up in a relieved smile.  "Wonderf-"

"But I'm not doing this for you, understand?"

"Of course.  You owe me noth-"

"And it's not without condition."

His jaw clenched as he lied silent for a moment.  "You will receive whatever you think is fair."

"I don't want any of your money, land or titles.  I want a divorce."

"Yes, of course.  It is the least I can do for you."

Selah's eyes narrowed upon the broken man.  Her blood suddenly felt like fire in her veins, her heart a constant thunder in her chest.  Her fists tightened into white-hot balls as she began to tremble.

I don't need you to tell me what you can do.  I don't need you to tell me what I owe to anyone.  Consider yourself lucky I haven't put you out of your misery, you arrogant shit stain on mankind.  If I knew it wouldn't burn this bridge I need, I'd tell all the ways you can burn in the hells.

"Yes, it most certainly is."  She turned to the almost diminutive roegadyn beside her, locking her gaze with his through a hardened expression.

"Healer, what do I need to do?"

Cold silence.  Empty darkness.  Ginal sat, naked and alone in the endless black.

What happened?  Where is everyone?  Mama?  Daddy?  Grezel? 

Selah?

"It's the same thing that always happens, darling.  Everyone who claims to love us has abandoned us, as does this world ever stand against us."  The voice belonged to a woman, sultry and sweet.

No... That can't be right.  They'll come for me!  Especially Selah!

"Oh, darling.  It's just you and, me.  Like it always was."

Ginal hugged her knees, trembling as tears rolled down her cheeks.  A soft tickle played across the back of her neck, and she realized is was a tail gently wrapping around.  It was lined with almost blood-red furr.

I'm scared... What will I do?  I don't want to be alone...

"You're not alone, darling.  You have me, as you always have."

Arms wrapped around Ginal in a tight, loving embrace.  

"You've been through so much, darling.  Why don't you rest?  I'll watch over you."

Yes.  I'm so tired.  Just a rest to recover... Then I'll figure everything out.  Maybe Selah can't find me, but I can go find her.

The loving arms helped Ginal lie back.  She couldn't identify a face, but there was a loving smile.  As she drifted off, she thought she met the gaze of eyes that glowed a pure, emerald green.