#Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker

[starlit-heir]

@grumpyascianteddybear

Z'nakei had fallen just tad behind on her studies, who could really blame her? Even with the Final Days dealt with people were still clambering for her services. So she was in Sharlayan's library, legs swinging from the bench she was sitting on.

Partly because she wanted his company, and partly to exploit his height, she had convinced Emet-Selch to come study with her. Her ears twitched as she heard approaching footsteps, looking up with a sickeningly sweet smile. Oh a method she had damn near perfected in such time. A cute, sweet, innocent little act to tug at the heart-strings.

"Did you find iit~?" The Miqo'te asked, the words drawn out in a little sing-song tone. Yet another book she requested he retrieve because, like most of the other books in this damn place, she could not reach.

She scooted to the side on the bench, staring up at him expectantly as she patted the space next to her.

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #grumpyascianteddybear #((couldn't find a meme that fit so it's finagling time!))

[dragons-bones]

FFXIV Write Entry #30: The Long Road Home

Prompt: sojourn || Master Post || On AO3

A/N: Here we are, at the last. Spoilers for Endwalker. Warnings for blood, discussions of injury and pseudo-fantastical medical procedures. Immediate followup to “At the End of All Things.”

--

The Ragnarok dropped from hyperspace without even a shudder, and Livingway couldn’t help the grudging respect for the Sharlayan engineers who had built her. While teeny-tiny toy boat, it was a well-made teeny-tiny toy boat, that had withstood the forces exerted on it as it had hurtled to the edge of the universe and back.

Etheirys hung like a brilliant blue jewel against the black of space now, growing closer as Mappingway input their return trajectory. At this speed, the Ragnarok needed to do almost a full orbit before she was slow enough to land safely in Old Sharlayan.

Just slow enough. Any slower and…

“Godsdamned fucking ribcage, I can’t fucking reach—”

“I can, Healingway, move your hand now and—yes, I have it.”

“Someone crack open another aether syrup bottle! No, two, Alisaie one of those is for you—”

“I need more gauze!”

“Here, Thancred—”

Livingway resolutely did not look behind her, staring straight ahead at the viewscreen and ignoring every twitch and jerk of Mappingway and Sleepingway’s ears as the Scions and Healingway’s triage team frantically worked to save the Warriors of Light. Any slower and Hydaelyn’s chosen champions might lose precious seconds they desperately needed.

(Healingway was going to be absolutely intolerable later, when the danger was past, because she had been the one to bully her way onboard with her team right behind her carrying crates of supplies, despite Livingway’s huffing.)

“Ragnarok to Thaumazein, Ragnarok to Thaumazein,” Mappingway called over the comms.

A crackle of the aether-radio: “This is Thaumazein, we read you loud and clear, Ragnarok. Welcome home!”

“Thaumazein, transmitting our return trajectory now; ETA in Scholar’s Harbor is 1300 local time. Requesting immediate medical assistance upon arrival. I repeat, requesting immediate medical assistance upon arrival.”

--

Krile was at the head of the crowd with Tataru, the pair of lalafell sprinting forward with a tiny carbunclet each hanging from a shoulder, as the Ragnarok smoothly sliced through the waters of Scholar’s Harbor and towards the largest of the berths at the far end of the docks. Giddy relief surged through her; the strange double-sight of Sharlayan’s clear skies and the overlay of the burning heavens of the Final Days had faded to leave only blue behind, and she had dared not hope until linkpearl reports came in of the Ragnarok flying over Othard and Ilsabard and Eorzea. But hope now she did.

She and Tataru came to a stop at the edge of the pier, the Ragnarok gliding sedately into place. As they did, Amandina dropped from her shoulder all of a sudden, and Roksana from Tataru’s, the pearl carbunclets tumbling into one another and vanishing with a pop! of displaced air. Krile felt their pearls tingle on her wrist—Synnove had given the twins into hers and Tataru’s safe-keeping, foci stones and all, with strict instructions to head to Ishgard should the worst come to pass—and then the two returned. With a passenger.

Ser Aymeric, lacking his formal Lord Commander’s armor in favor of simple boots and breeches and a linen shirt beneath a doublet, stumbled a pace forward, dropping to one knee as he cradled the twin carbunclets in his arm. “Girls, we have had words with you about sudden teleportation,” he wheezed.

Sorry, Papa, Amandina squeaked.

It’s an emergency, Roksana added.

His head shot up, and Tataru and Krile’s both whipped around.

We gotta go, Amandina warbled, reaching up to press a carbuncle-kiss to Ser Aymeric’s cheek.

But we’ll be back! Roksana chittered, doing the same.

Take care of Mommy! they chorused, and then in a flash of blue-and-purple aether, they demanifested.

Ser Aymeric stared at where they had been in his arms just a moment ago. Tataru was slowly losing color in her face, and Krile felt the same, as her hands began to shake.

“Make way, make way! Healers coming through!”

Krile raised her head as a full company of city-guard pushed through the crowd, escorting a full complement of sages and conjurers and chirugeons, each wearing the sigil of the Sharlayan Medical Corp; a group of loporrits bull-rushed their way through just after them, pushing four long carts—mobile cots?—with multiple medkits and other boxes of supplies balanced on top of them. With the healers safely arrived, the guards turned towards herding back the crowd, calling for an order and creating a corridor back down the dock. Ameliance and Fourchenault ducked by them, but the guards gave them no notice; the Leveilleurs were beginning to look as worried as Krile felt.

She sprinted to the healers. “Master Healer,” she called to their leader; she didn’t recognize her, unfortunately. “What’s happening?”

“Ragnarok requested immediate medical attention upon arrival,” the Roegadyn woman said grimly. “I can confirm everyone is alive, but the Warriors of Light are in critical condition.” Krile closed her eyes, terror lancing through her even as Ser Aymeric gasped wetly behind her and Tataru cut off her horrified shriek. The healer continued, “Mistress Baldesion, I loathe having to ask, but I must request your assistance, in particular due to your familiarity with the medical histories of the Warriors of Light.”

Krile clasped her hands together in an attempt to stop their shaking. Oh, gods be good, please let this not be because of the decision she had made in allowing Zenos viator Galvus the chance to follow the Scions to Ultima Thule. “You need not ask, Master Healer,” she said. “Though I am glad I will not have to fight through your healers to assist my family.”

The Roegadyn nodded, and then both their heads whipped around as a hatch on the Ragnarok hissed, and swung open. Thancred hung out, grim-faced and blood-stained as he kicked a gangplank into place down to the dock, and Krile and the healers surged forward.

“We’ve got them stable, barely,” he said once they were close enough, ducking aside to let them through, and then leading them towards the bridge. “Alisaie nearly drained herself into her own case of aethershock, Y’shtola had to cast Repose on her to get her to stop. We’re all in minor cases of aethershock, but Synnove is the worst off, and that’s before the physical injuries.”

Krile felt herself go grey as Thancred rattled off the extent of the injuries suffered by the Warriors of Light and Scions both. It was a miracle they had even made it back to the ship and the Scions weren’t sure what had happened between the assumed defeat of the Endsinger and their arrival back on the Ragnarok, but Krile knew. She knew how those injuries had happened.

The floor of the Ragnarok’s bridge was covered in blood. The Scions and Healingway’s team of loporrit healers huddled around the Warriors of Light; even Alisaie, who had apparently bucked Repose, to Thancred’s exasperated sigh.

Krile immediately went to Dancing Heron, shooing an exhausted Alphinaud out of the way so that she and one of the Medical Corp healers could take over. A diagnostic spell told her the Hellsguard’s innards were essentially held together by prayer and fine silk thread; it was another miracle her blood wasn’t poisoned by the toxins from her perforated intestines, or what remained of them. As she settled to the task of blasting infection before it could take hold, Heron’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hi, Krile,” she croaked.

(“Oh, fuck you,” Healingway raged from where she was putting Alakhai’s chest back together. “Stop throwing off Sleep you fucking idiot! I hate paladins!”

“This is the first paladin you’ve worked with,” one of the loporrits muttered.

“Shut the fuck up!”)

“Oh, Heron,” she said, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“Hey, none of tha’ now,” Heron said, slurring. Her eyes closed, her chest rising with the deep breath she took. “Hate to say it, but th’ bastard made ‘isself useful. An’ then we ended ‘im good ‘n proper.”

“You shouldn’t have fought him at all,” Krile said, reaching up to brush blood-crusted hair from Heron’s face.

“Was in—ugh. Was in-ev-it-a-ble,” Heron said slowly, deliberately. She reached up and gently patted Krile’s hands, her dark red skin too cool to the touch. “Better at th’ edge of th’ universe tha’ where someone could get hurt.”

“And you and your sisters count very much as someones getting hurt.”

“Nah, s’our job,” Heron said, nodding, as if that made it better. “M’gonna sleep now. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Heron,” Krile said, patting the paladin’s cheek, but Heron was already out cold.

Tension filled the bridge; Krile glanced up and saw Ser Aymeric kneeling next to Tataru, holding the young woman close as she cried onto his shoulder, his own eyes focused with horrible intensity on Synnove. Ameliance crouched on Ser Aymeric’s other side, one hand on his free shoulder and the other clutching tight to her husband’s as Fourchenault spoke quietly but firmly into a linkpearl. From the snatches she could catch during lulls in the orders and requests of the healers filling the space, the Leveilleur patriarch was throwing around the full might of the Forum to ready the emergency ward at the hospital.

She lost track of how long they worked, but eventually the loporrits brought over the mobile cots—stretchers, they were apparently called—and carefully they loaded a Warrior of Light onto each. Krile was small and light enough that she stayed crouched over Heron, modulating her conjury to keep her friend stable as they were wheeled out of the Ragnarok and towards the chocobo carts waiting to carry the whole of the Scions to the hospital. Two other lalafell healers did the same with Alakhai and Synnove, and Healingway knelt next to Rereha, frowning thoughtfully at the device she carried in one hand even as the other held the stasis spell steady.

Ser Aymeric followed along next to Synnove’s stretcher, one hand resting on her uninjured arm. The other Scions staggered after them; Estinien had Alphinaud slung over one shoulder, the young man passed out from exhaustion, with Alisaie hiked up under one arm and being fussed over by Ameliance, while Raha, Y’shtola, and Urianger leaned against one another with a pair of Sharlayan sages hovering next to them. Thancred carried a still weeping Tataru, smiling faintly as the coinkeeper scolded him between her tears.

A flash of blue overheard caught her attention, and Krile lifted her head to see a bluebird wing its way above the harbor.

--

The first sennight was the worst. For all that the four Warriors of Light were stable, any of their conditions could take a sudden turn for the worse, and more than one Scion took up a silent vigil at the side of one of their friends to ensure she made it through the night.

Kan-E-Senna, A-Ruhn-Senna, plus a number of Gridanian conjurers and Ul’dahn alchemists (among them Rerenasu Kukunasu, looking as if he had aged ten years before he even got to his daughter’s bedside), arrived by Ironworks airship the day after the Ragnarok’s return. The Elder Seedseer was immediately whisked into hushed talks with Healingway and the Sharlayan chirugeons who researched experimental treatments. And then they descended upon Rereha’s rooms to begin their attempts to repair the bard’s shattered spine, as the other healers were quickly put into the rotation to treat the others.

Aymeric spent those first days refusing to leave Synnove’s side, to the point the Master Healer, Tyrngeim, sighed heavily and ordered a cot brought to the arcanist’s room on which he could sleep. Not that he truly gained any rest, jerking awake almost as soon as he dropped off for fear something might happen to his lady in so fragile a state. The one time he managed a full night’s sleep was because Y’shtola had marched into the room, Urianger on her heels, and forced a sleeping draught into his hand while saying, “You’ll be no good to her dead yourself. Urianger and I will take the watch tonight.”

Synnove was so awfully still, as were her sisters; the healers were using a combination of thaumaturgical Sleep, conjuration Repose, and a cocktail of potions to keep them in comas. While everyone had returned from Ultima Thule in some state of aethershock—Estinien had been introduced to the disgusting horrors of aether syrup, and his brother had spent a solid two bells growling like a drake as he had kept otherwise silent vigil with Aymeric next to Synnove, grimacing with every tentative sip—Synnove was by far the worst off on that front. Her cheeks were sunken, her skin tight across her bones; any time the Warriors of Light were called to duty, Synnove dropped weight, the demands of her magic eating her body’s reserves, and the Scions had careened from the towers to Garlemald to Ultima Thule in mere moons, with Synnove (as well as the other mages) becoming almost frightfully lean before their journey to the stars. Now his lady was skeletal, and per the healers, her internal organs were badly damaged, particularly her kidneys and liver.

It took Aymeric two days to notice the arcanima sleeve tattoos were gone, and he stared, gaping, until Alisaie arrived.

“It was all the healing,” she said quietly, taking the brush from the bedside table to begin tending to Synnove’s now-brittle hair. “We had to practically shove aether into her and her body just gobbled it up, trying to keep itself functioning. At one point it was like a floodwater, so much magic at once it spilled over, pushed the ink right out of her skin. On her back, too, we had an awful fright when the colors seeped out onto the floor.”

“N’dhovaka is going to be furious,” Aymeric muttered, thinking of the Sun Seeker matron who had done all of Synnove’s tattoo work.

Alisaie snorted a laugh. “Synnove told me she had been wondering about some sort of alteration to the sleeves, refine the arrays. Suppose this is as good an opportunity as any.”

They both spoke in whens, not ifs, as if to do otherwise would invite ill fortune.

For now, all they could do for Synnove was keep getting aether syrup into her, trying to get her ravaged internal reserves to some sort of equilibrium, with healing sessions where the healers guided her own energies to focus on maintaining her brain and heart and lungs. Aymeric listened with trepidation as Tyrngeim and Healingway explained to him on the fifth day what they hoped to do once Synnove was stable enough that they could perform surgery.

“Her left kidney is completely shot,” the Master Healer said. “Now, an adult hyur can live with only one kidney, but given the state of her right kidney, she’s looking at potential failure in the future.”

“Fury preserve me,” he said, dropping his head into hands and pulling at his hair.

“Her best chance is essentially to perform a transplant surgery,” Healingway said succinctly, her small arms crossed. “There’s Allagan tech us loporrits have salvaged, plus what the Eorzean Alliance and Sharlayans have recovered over the years and studied, and there’s some genuinely useful medical uses for their cloning technology. Fuckers used it for some disgusting things—”

“—but my colleagues have had success with using it to grow new organs for badly injured individuals,” Tyrngeim interrupted before Healingway could get going. “Normally organ growth on the scale we need takes moons to ensure everything is viable with the power restraints we operate under—the original Allagan machines had power requirements we won’t be able to match for a couple generations as we reverse-engineer everything—but Healingway thinks since there is some healthy tissue remaining, we can use it as a base and jumpstart the process with loporrit creation magic. And since it’s Synnove’s own flesh, her body won’t reject it.”

“The liver won’t take much,” Healingway said. “Absolutely wonderful organ, the liver, it’s perfectly capable of regenerating itself over a period of time, but Synnove’s is at the point it’ll need some help. And far easier than the lung transplants we’re going to have to do for Alakhai. Honestly, I think the only reason we even have a chance right now is that there seems to be dynamis still lingering around all four of them, though even my tools are shite at judging how much. We’re going to have to do all the gross organ stuff right at their bedsides to harness it, we are literally fueling all this shite with high octane hope.”

Aymeric could not even begin to parse through what the two healers were discussing and the implications of it all. He rubbed his face tiredly and said, “Whatever it is you need me to sign, I’ll do it,” he said. “Whatever it takes to see her through.”

He still didn’t know if Synnove was better off than Alakhai and Heron, their bodies so badly wounded that the healers were still struggling to align bones and fish out stray shards and make sure the right pieces of meat were sewn together. It likely wasn’t wise to compare. It would take a long, long time for any of them to be back at full strength.

“This is going to be moons of recovery, once they’re out of danger,” Y’shtola said at the end of the first sennight, gathered with all the Scions, Aymeric, Rereha’s father, Heron’s mother, and a Lominsan in green by the name of V’kebbe, newly arrived that morning and “representing Alakhai’s family among the Upright, if you please.” They were huddled in the empty room in the same wing that their four family members were being kept that had become the communal space for them. A spread of coffee and juice and sandwiches from the Last Stand was laid out on the center table that they half-heartedly picked at.

Krile cleared her throat, and Y’shtola scowled, ears pinned flat to her head even as she obediently lifted her bottle of aether syrup and took a sip of the concoction.

“We do not ask any of ye to merely return to thy homes and await whatever sporadic crumb of news we can provide,” Urianger said. The other elezen was the most dressed down Aymeric had ever seen him, in soft pants and a thick sweater and knit fingerless gloves on his hand; his own aethershock lingered now in a persistent chill. “But ye will need to make the necessary plans if ye intend to stay in Sharlayan for long.”

“Considering the poor luck many of us have in multiple responsibilities, we’ll need to switch off as needed,” Rerenasu sighed. “As a note, Shushuha and I will cover all transport costs for everyone, airship and teleportation, and please do not argue with me about this, Opal.” Heron’s mother, Radiant Opal, rolled her eyes. “Ser Aymeric, no doubt Angharad will try to do the same, tell her she can argue with Shushu about it until they’re both blue in the face. Miss V’kebbe—”

The miqo’te rogue snorted. “Like Jacke’ll complain about one less thing t’ worry about with our coffers,” she said. “And thank you.”

“We’ve already got rooms set aside for everyone in the Baldesion Annex,” Krile said. “And no doubt Ameliance will do her best to send lunches for us all, no matter the time of day.”

Thancred sighed heavily and slouched in his chair. “Consider this the official first meeting of the Warriors of Light Family Support Group,” he snarked, ducking the swipe Alphinaud took at him and shifting to avoid the pinch from Alisaie.

“Likely not the last,” Alphinaud said with a sigh. But then he smiled, faint and hopeful. “But so far the signs are pointing to a positive outcome, and we must needs contain to have faith in our friends and the healers alike.”

--

It was the end of the third sennight, and Aymeric was startled awake by a hissing noise. He had fallen asleep in the chair next to Synnove, her limp hand gently grasped in his own, and now he snapped his eyes open, searching for the danger—

“—stupid fucking stubborn gods-be-damned older sisters I swear to Hydaelyn I will beat you bloody—”

That was the familiar tirade of a certain loporrit trauma specialist. Aymeric turned his head, and he stared.

Dancing Heron grinned back at him. She had huge bags under her eyes, and her skin hung lank on her frame, and she was slouching, one arm gingerly cradling her stomach, but it was Heron.

“Heron, what in the name of—” he gasped, scrambling to standing. “You came out of your third surgery yesterday, you’re supposed to be in a bloody coma—” He gently wrapped his lady’s elder sister in a hug, and she hugged him back with one arm.

Healingway raged at their feet. “This fucking stupid two-legger threw off the most potent cocktail of drugs I have ever had to mix and two layers of spellcraft because she had to check on her sisters. For fuck’s sake.”

“I was tired of sleeping,” Heron said mildly.

Healingway spat a curse that had Aymeric’s inner soldier blushing.

“Alakhai gave me a thumbs up,” Heron said as he drew back and pulled over a chair for her. “Then she dropped back to sleep. Rereha stole her mom’s knitting and is doing a cat’s cradle to test her range of motion in her fingers.”

Aymeric laughed as he helped ease the Hellsguard down onto the chair, the only reaction he had in his disbelief. Not even a few days ago, Kan-E-Senna had been fretting about the extent of any paralysis for Rereha, as she was still being kept in a coma, and Alakhai had had her own second surgery earlier today to begin fixing the disaster that was her torso.

“And it looks like Synnove’s doing better, too,” Heron rasped, a grin on her face as Healingway pulled out that strange scanning device of hers to go over the Hellsguard.

He turned, puzzled—and stared.

On Synnove’s other side, her aetheric glow dimmed to converse as much aether as possible, was Galette, tucked under her mama’s arm with her chin on Synnove’s shoulder. The carbuncle was nearly transparent, but she was there. And for the first time in three sennights, Synnove’s breathing was slow and deep, rather than the reedy wheeze that haunted Aymeric’s dreams, her chest rising and falling in steady beats with Galette in tandem.

The best, surest sign that her aether had finally begun to stabilize.

Aymeric collapsed into his chair, put his head on his lady’s shoulder even as he gripped her hand anew, and wept. In her sleep, Synnove’s hand twitched, and gripped back.

(On the tree outside the window, a bluebird began to sing.)

PREVIOUS PROMPT || FIN

#ffxivwrite2022 #final fantasy xiv #ffxiv #endwalker #endwalker spoilers #livingway #mappingway #krile baldesion #aymeric de borel #tataru taru #thancred waters #estinien wyrmblood #alisaie leveilleur #alphinaud leveilleur #urianger augurelt #oc: synnove greywolfe #oc: rereha reha #oc: alakhai noykin #oc: dancing heron #aymeric x wol #aymeric x synnove #dt's writing

[capriccio-ffxiv]

Ryuu Tenshi: Endwalker Playlist

Finished my EW playlist for Ryuu and in true cringe early 2000s fashion, here's both the playlist, and a very long, wordy explanation of each damn track. Well, except when I didn't, in which case, I feel the track's self explanatory.

Playlist here: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLN1DZZlTYVt0yz_JDkuu5l_fkl8aI_QHt

The Wake (2005 Mix); Abney Park

My father said Almost the whole world is asleep Everyone you know, everyone you see, everybody you talk to… Only a few people are awake And they live in a state of constant total amazement…

The awakening and realization regarding the Ancients and the Final Days; opening one's eyes and discovering that nothing was as it seemed.

Finale; Maedon

Your last chance, last summer Your last dance, beat to your own drummer Go out fighting, go out young A flash of lightning, eclipse the sun....

This really is it, isn't it? Why the hell can't the Forum see that? Fuck 'em. We sing and scream because we know.

Animus Vox x How Do I Get to Invincible? (Revision); The Glitch Mob

How do I get to invincible? Who's gonna be there to catch me when I fall? How will I know when I'm ready to, to....... All of my flaws make me out to perfection Lonely hearts never fear flying into messes I can't even lie, I might fight to the death, yeah But only if it feels like heaven...

It's just a very Warrior of Light song to me, ok? How DO you get to invincible/ Who IS gonna be there to catch you when you fall?

Go Small; Seeming

So write the song you need to hear Write it on the palm of your hand When the world is drowned in flames Write something you can understand

Garlemald. We save who we can. We do what we can. And yet. And yet. The skies turn red...

Nemo; Nightwish

Walk the dark path Sleep with angels Call the past for help Touch me with your love And reveal to me my true name

... who were you, Azem? For that matter, who were you, Zodiark? Who were you, Hydaelyn? The only truth we can find to save ourselves lies long in the past...

In Other Worlds; Azem Ali

She's still the key holder Through this portal She courts you now

If love be revealed In the spark of an eye Could all be redeemed In the sea of time?

If the stars embed Like nails into the ground From the unheard prayers That have torn up the skies

Would you will it all away As you sail on your way?

(On your own, you sail...)

Elpis theme. I tried to not just post all the damn lyrics but you should probably look them up for yourself.

Starlight Brigade; TWRP feat Dan Avidian

Can I just stand by While the world dies? (While the world dies?) Starship idling nearby Is it my time? I crawl inside and turn the cockpit clockwise Toward the sunrise

I hear a voice in the back of my head Screaming “This is suicide! Did you hear what I said!?” But then it fades into nothing With the rest of the light and sound I’m on my way out!

THANKS FOR THE SPACE SHIP SHARLAYAN, WE FUCKIN OUT

The End; Celldweller

"I wish we could," she whispered near "Go someplace far away from here." While hoping that small voice would disappear That said "Welcome to the end"

This is both "welcome to ultima thule" but also my song for the original Final Days & Sundering.

Signal to Noise; Peter Gabriel

And in this place can you reassure me With a touch, a smile while the cradle's burning All the while the world is turning to noise

Oh, the more that it's surrounding us The more that it destroys Turn up the signal Wipe out the noise

[...]

You Are Not Alone; Into the Woods; written by Stephen Sondheim

Mother cannot guide you Now you're on your own Only me beside you Still, you're not alone No one is alone, truly No one is alone

Sometimes people leave you Halfway through the wood Others may deceive you You decide what's good You decide alone But no one is alone.

The long walk.

Debated putting this up where Hydaelyn dies ("mother cannot guide you") but it works in both spots.

This Is What You Are; Warframe OST

[Instrumental]

I honestly can't explain this one well unless you've played Warframe. If you've played Warframe, you Know why this is here.

A Glorioius Dawn; Symphony of Science; Carl Sagan ft Stephen Hawking

The sky calls to us If we do not destroy ourselves We will one day venture to the stars

A still more glorious dawn awaits Not a sunrise, but a galaxy rise A morning filled with 400 billion suns

Hey, little bird. Have you thought about singing hope?

Dreaming; BT; Electronic Opus version

Walk with me The future's at hand Here with us Here where we stand

We both know The power of pain We get back up and start it again New hope, no place for tears Leave behind those frozen years

Come with me And we'll go dreaming

And so we go onward, unto the next adventure!

Hey, you might be asking, where's Zenos? Where's that fight?

Well, just mentally insert the Benny Hill theme song (Yakkity Sax) anywhere in this playlist you think appropriate for Zenos and you've got it.

#ffxiv #ffxiv endwalker #endwalker #ultima thule #playlist #soundtrack #oc: ryuu tenshi #oc: kian asmadi

[frostsong]

9—24: VICISSITUDES.

noun: alternation between opposite or contrasting things.

rating: g

characters: prince haldrath, ratatoskr (mentioned), original characters, chanduciel de dansereau

tags: reincarnation au, post-endwalker probably, family, father & (toddler) son bonding, haldrath still battles his demons even now, but he’s more hopeful (because he has more reason to), listened to sleeping at last’s ‘you are enough (acoustic version)’

summary: in another time and place, he wonders.

wordcount: 619

“and what color would that be?”

his voice is barely above a whisper as the toddler in his lap brushes his tiny fingers above his own, larger and longer ones—from little lips and rosy cheeks his son sputters a sound, a syllable, and two stitched together in an awkward little squeak.

still, haldrath’s heart swells with pride.

“orange. well done!” grinning wide, he re-gathered the child up onto his lap with the book, as the little one’s incoherent mumbles formed bubbles that dribbled down his small chin. haldrath couldn’t help but chuckle as wiped him clean with his sleeve, and the boy’s wide purple eyes—eyes that mirrored his own, though larger, and certainly brighter—focused on him and him alone. he could only wonder what his son, who only recently passed his very first summer, was thinking of at that very moment: how little of the world he had seen with those two large eyes, with that tiny heart that was still learning the rhythm by which the boy would live, live, live—

he shuddered as he breathed in, as he felt the weight of doubt return—the odd question that changed nothing. that meant everything.

the question of if he deserved all this.

here and now, haldrath knows better, remembers better. he can never set foot in sohr khai again without feeling the sunset-gold burn on his skin like an old scar. never again can he draw breath in dravania without even the mere air threatening to take it from him.

that, he deserved.

but the miracle on small fours lurching forward to bring the book closer—the one that carries half of him, half euphemie: his eyes, her dimpled smile.

he called his child a miracle for a reason—euphemie believed as much, too—and everyone close to them insisted the same. even the lithe dragonets who’d grown to regard them as family hovered close by, relishing in the sight of a not-yet man, of life in its first days.

they all call him father. papa, at warmest—it’s the name euphie still calls her own, even with all the years since his passing. she tells him he’ll be the same, if not better—most definitely better. and it’s a daunting expectation to meet, but every time haldrath takes chanduciel up into his arms he knows he wants to—he has to.

ratatoskr—the only mother he’d ever known—would want the same.

the great irony turned tragedy of it all, stings and will sting forevermore—and one of the countless consequences that comes with it is that his boy will never meet her. not in this life. and haldrath had been a participant in ending it all—in perpetuating the myriad chances lost to far more than time alone.

at night, once they have chanduciel safely swaddled and sleeping in the wrought-iron cradle by their bed (both of them agreed it was far too soon for the nursery), she has to remind him time and time again not to dwell on the regrets that mire him down so much. she knows the feeling, for in the past he had been the one who told her the same. that time in their lives had come to an end, and for better or worse they had done well to move on from it. now, the greatest motivation for doing so was asleep an arm’s reach away.

his hands that took life now cradled it, protected it. treasured it.

he would die for him once, twice, as many times as necessary to ensure his safety, his well-being, his happiness—but he would rather sit here with him, read him stories when he’s far too young to remember the words to, tell him things he can’t understand just yet.

haldrath would rather live.

#ffxivwrite2022 #eggpens #prince haldrath #chanduciel de dansereau

[starlit-heir]

@grumpyascianteddybear | ☆

"I'm not sure..." Z'nakei murmured sadly, brows furrowed as she looked away- the concerned look on his face somehow making her feel guilty. "It's been like this for years, I don't know if it even can be helped..."

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #Magia || Hades x Z'nakei (grumpyascianteddybear) #grumpyascianteddybear

[starlit-heir]

@drachenblood

It had grown a bit too chilly for her to be able to focus on her current studies in Sharlayan. So, for the time being, she left! Because that was an option and for once she wasn't obligated to stay in any given place for one threat or another.

As for where to go? Radz-at-Han. There she could soak up that sweet, sweet warmth. Snow? What is snow? Such thing does not exist~ For the moment, while she is in warmth paradise, anyone who tries to argue that snow does exist is just wrong. Poor them, what a shame.

It wasn't long before she found Estinien, blinking a little as the gears turned. Slowly, slowly she inched over towards him. Eventually she was staring up at him, stumbling a little from how much she had to crane her head back to even be able to look him in the eyes.

Evidently, her intelligence and the few social skills she possessed had yet to thaw out. The Miqo'te just pointed up towards the Elezen, quiet for a moment before she remembered what words were. "The world's not endin'... Tour."

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #drachenblood

[starlit-heir]

@sorcerhul

While the coursework wasn't necessarily difficult, she did often fall behind. The rest of her life was far too busy to dedicate all of her time to her studies. So, in the moments of calm, she often spent a night or two binging it all and catching up. During those days, she would basically live inside Noumenon.

Today led to a rare sight. The Miqo'te fast asleep, not a hint of fitfulness to be seen. Going by the piles of tomes around her and one still open in her lap, she had been working for so long she fell asleep.

And, embarrassing as it would be when she'd come to, no one had the heart to wake her up considering she had been there for days already catching up. One of her aides laid nearby, tail lazily wagging here and there as he watched people come and go.

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #sorcerhul

[starlit-heir]

@grumpyascianteddybear

Z'nakei was quiet as she chipped away at the work that had piled up during another brief period of being otherwise busy. As evident from her squinting to see and the fact that her eyes were still red and puffy, she had been crying at some point. A long, tired sigh left her as she leaned back in her chair. She couldn't focus like this.

Resigned to the fact that she wouldn't be getting any work done, she stood up. Slowly she navigated through her house to get to the kitchen to brew herself a fresh pot of coffee White ears twitched as she heard familiar steps come through the doorway, turning to look over her shoulder.

"Hades? I-I'm sorry... Did I wake you?" Although, perhaps waking him up had been inevitable, she had been trying to get her studies done while still in bed so she wouldn't have to leave the warm covers. Which meant she had to disturb said bed to get up for some more coffee. "You can go back to bed, I won't be long."

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #Magia || Hades x Z'nakei (grumpyascianteddybear) #grumpyascianteddybear

[starlit-heir]

KICKS HER DOOR DOWN. "WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN EORZEA DOESN'T HAVE INDOOR PLUMBING?!?!?!?" SCREAMS.

Oh dear gods he is asking the wrong person! She is stupid and knows nothing about technology!!

"Indoor what???" Wheezed out in between hyperventilating gasps because Lovek just scared the shit out of her kicking the door.

#adenial #Answer Honestly || Ask #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #Hope Has Descended and is Coming for You || Crack #((damnit lovek... look what you've done :c))

[starlit-heir]

peeks on in here :D

z'nakei has gotten two new familiars for mobility and getting around. made using resources from both elpis and records about how the silkie was made.

there's nova, visualized after argos. he's usually brought out in more compact places, cities, buildings, etc.

while she could have just taken in argos directly, if felt wrong to her. argos always has been and always will be venat's, not hers.

and then stella, for more open spaces. visualized after dalamud. due to her size and stature, stella is usually z'nakei's pick for maneuvering in combat (if the space has enough room to even allow the free movement)

#Have You Heard? || Headcanons #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker

[starlit-heir]

@voidalbound | ☆

For what felt like the thousandth time since meeting Zero, Z'nakei was locked within her own head. Thoughts bringing her along in an unwilling fight to sift through the fuzzy blanks in yet another effort to try and piece together why exactly she was so spooked by the voidsent.

The Miqo'te could feel her stomach churn more and more as she drifted further and further. Only being dragged back to reality once she vaguely heard Zero's harsh wording.

She blinked repeatedly, looking around almost frantically as she reoriented herself. Still in one place, still in one piece, supposedly safe...

A few pinches here and there just to be extra sure that yes, she is indeed in one piece. Then, it reoccurred to her that Zero had said something. "A-ah... Sorry... Don't know what happened there." Liar. "Did you need something?"

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #voidalbound

[starlit-heir]

@senetaf

When she had initially rescued him in Bozja, she had bid Hati find his own life to live. That no one should dictate it for him anymore. Their meeting was fleeting, for she didn't remain in Bozja long. Much time had passed since then. And recent memories weren't the only ones left fuzzy from the events of the Final Days.

When she ran into a Viera, at first she was apologetic after scrambling to right her balance. And then, she was stuck staring with a troubled expression. Those silver eyes… They were familiar. And it bothered her that she couldn't place where, the information scratching just below the surface. "Do…" Starting out in an uncertain whisper. "Do I know you…? I-I do, don't I? You're familiar. But I can't remember where…"

Z'nakei jolted for a moment, dipping her head. "I-I'm sorry, my name's Z'nakei." Internally, she cringed. Gods, she probably sounded pathetic right now...

#Countless Stories || RP #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker #senetaf

[starlit-heir]

"Why, look at you! My adorable little sapling is becoming more like her lovely branch with every passing day!"

"'m not adorable." Z'nakei grumbled in embarrassment, scuffing a foot along the ground. In an absolutely foolproof way to deflect from further insistence, the Miqo'te changed the subject. "I can't wait until I've fulfilled my part of our promise and can come home, though."

#indreaming #Answer Honestly || Ask #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker

[starlit-heir]

Chimaira sat down right in front of Z'nakei and lowered its head, happily chuckling as it dropped something that looked strangely familiar. A red memory crystal. Where did it find it? No one seemed to be around but did it truly matter? All it wanted was a few pets for its well done job.

Z'nakei blinked in surprise as a memory crystal was dropped in front of her. Picking up on the need for praise, she awkwardly reached out to pet the familiar's head with one hand. With her free hand, she inspected the memory crystal- anxious if it was possibly stolen from anyone potentially important.

And if it was important... Well, fuck her luck! Because that meant she had to wander and ask after strangers. As well as be that weird 'familiar' who has somehow wound up with someone's, potentially stolen, memory crystal. Lucky her!

Ah- too much time brooding, not enough time praising. "You're good at finding things! Where'd you get this?"

#pcndaemonium #Answer Honestly || Ask #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker

[starlit-heir]

“You keep asking that same question.” Zero began, studying Z’nakei with a pale eye before turning their gaze away. “And my answer remains the same. Why do we bother with these pleasantries if it is the same outcome?”

Z'nakei looked away quickly, "J-Just trying to be polite..." The Miqo'te murmured uncomfortably. Normally, she wouldn't care to bother with such pleasantries. However- she was compensating greatly for something. That being how she was still jumpy around Zero, and the resulting guilt. Guilt that compounded every time that she had to remind herself that whatever had happened to her during their time as... that monster's avatar, it wasn't their fault. That they had been wronged just as much as she had been, if not more.

#voidalbound #Answer Honestly || Ask #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker

[starlit-heir]

❝ I hope you don't mind… ❞

𝐇𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐄𝐔𝐒 appers comfortably parked in 𝐙'𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐈's living quarters, nested amongst a pile of cushions adjacent to the nearest window, peering incessantly into a rose-gold telescope.

That... wasn't her telescope, hers had no hint of rose-gold. Actually, when did he even get in here? After settling from being startled, Z'nakei looked over at Hythlodaeus in confusion.

"Did... you bring your own telescope?" The Miqo'te murmured softly, absolutely bewildered. "Y-You do know that I have one stored in my library, right? That couldn't have been easy to carry in here..."

She shifted over to settle into the pile of cushions, slooooowly sinking into the array of plushes and somewhat disappearing from sight. Did she have a problem? No, absolutely not. This was a perfectly reasonable amount of cushions and plushes.

#soulseeresque #Answer Honestly || Ask #The Unending Journey || Mainverse #Cradle of Hope || Post-Endwalker