Chapter Text
Aranea isn't with Cindy when the sun rises- In fact, she isn't even aware the sun is going to rise, and she makes a rather unflattering spectacle of herself in surprise when it peeks over the horizon.
They're flying somewhere above Duscae (or at least, she thinks so) but just ahead of the airship, she spies the ominous purple glow of a daemon forming, and a Red Giant, oozing with the Scourge rises from the bubbling slime. She grimaces, nose twitching in disgust, but heads towards the bay doors to take care of it. Biggs drops the doors, and her lance is in hand before she can even peer over the rusted brown of the metal. She hops out with effortless grace as soon as she can, grinning. She's eager to be rid of the Giant; She's been away from Cindy for nearly two weeks and while she's by no means clingy it's started to fray her nerves. She's not anxious persay, but she won't relax until Cindy's got her in her arms.
Aranea's done this a thousand times by now, dropping down onto enemies. It's her thing. She hasn't messed it up in, well, years probably. She doesn't remember it, needless to say. She's even perfected doing it in the seemingly eternal darkness that has a hold on Eos. It can't really be stressed enough for skilled she is, because she messes it up this time. Colossally.
The Giant hasn't seen her, and she's hurtling down towards it, ready to drive her lance through it's skull when suddenly an enormous light fills the sky. It's so bright, Aranea's eyes are forced shut, and the Giant roars, the sound throwing her off even more, and she loses direction. She leans back, away from the light, away from the sound, and the lance swerves off course, and her eyes open once again just as she hits the concrete. Her legs catches an edge of the lance as it clatters to the ground away from her.
She's taken hits like this before, but she's older, and unprepared for the impact, rolling several feet before she catches herself. The Giant bellows again, and she groans. Her back feels like it's crying out just as loud. A few choked coughs escape her chest, and she pulls herself up onto her knees, thankful for her gloves keeping the stone from scratching her hands. Her lance is a few feet away, just out of reach, and she crawls over to it when she's steadied herself. The Giant's stopped it's monstrous cries, thankfully, and when she looks up it's turning a stony gray, and seems to be...evaporating? Whatever it is that daemons do when exposed to-
Sunlight.
The Giant's body slowly falls away, and behind it is a golden gray sky, and the sun. The sun!
"The motherfucking sun!" Aranea screams, and cheers and lets out a string of gleeful expletives. The airship descends onto the street where the Giant had stood just moments before, and Wedge and Biggs run out, Wedge grinning like a madman, Biggs having the sense to look somewhat put out at the sight of Aranea banged up.
"Ma'am, it's the sun! It's only bloody risen!"
She smiles, and laughs, breathless. "Sure has." The sun's morning rays are bright, and she has to squint when she looks up, but it's there. Aranea's never been one to admire the sunrise, the gold and rose skies that romantics adore, but she's never been happier to see their star. They watch it, for a while, until the rush of euphoria and adrenaline leaves Aranea's body and her legs give out. Her hands grip the lance tighter, and she exhales forcefully, but Biggs lets her take his arm.
They shuffle back into the airship, Aranea lays down on one of the benches, head in Wedge's lap as Biggs takes to the controls. "Guess the Prince is back." She comments idly, as the ship ascends once more, back on route to Hammerhead, to Cindy.
They turn the main lights off after an hour- they can see Leide clearly. The dry, cracked tundra, the gnarled and paper-thin remains of trees, the abandoned cars, they can see it all.
They can see the sun. And as it rises, and they draw closer to Hammerhead, Aranea can see home.