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There comes a time in every life where the world becomes lucid. Everything is special, everything is noticed. Right now, Kain wasn’t lost in thought. He was noticing the exact feel of a chilly wind caressing his skin as it passed by, lover for only a moment. He existed for now in ancient ruins on a rise above the thin curve of Crescent Lake, a waterfall sounding in the near distance behind him. He rested in the tallest— stable— part of this stone memory, destined to crumble but lingering for now like shadow. Perhaps it had existed a city in the first volleys of this endless war. Perhaps people had raised their children here, wrote to distant lovers, baked warm, fragrant breads.
Now it was nothing more than part of this cursed land. It took a short walk east from these ruins to the edge of this risen ground above the lake. Beyond that, there was a large forest, and farther still was the sea. From where he sat, however, all Kain could see was the ocean, darkened waters reflecting the deep violet of the dimming twilight sky. If he were to turn around, he would see the faraway glow of Sanctuary.. but he wan’t going there. He would never go there again.
He sighed, gazing out past the sea, his helmet resting beside him. For now, he could forget what he had done, and all of which he still had to do. It was only him and the wind, effortless in their bonding. He tilted his face back, closing his weary eyes. This was the first rest he had felt in a long, long time. It felt unnatural to be doing simply nothing, and yet somehow so good.
And it was in this moment that he became aware of a presence appearing behind him. He knew it wasn’t a manikin— those had been cleared from the area like so many parasites. It was none other than his current companion, his next victim: the weapons specialist Firion, who stepped forward to where Kain was. The dragoon could feel the worried glance burning into him. He turned his face away in mild discomfort.
"You shouldn’t be out here. It’s getting late; we should get as much rest as we can before we move on." To this, Kain opened his eyes. He noticed little things, like how good Firion smelled somehow, in this wretched place; how the pale light of night turned him into something of ephemeral beauty; how the wind took parts of them both to drift away into the dark. This was one of those moments Kain didn’t give over to contemplation— he merely noticed and appreciated.
"None of us should be here," he replied in languid sarcasm. It was a little distant, too indifferent, yet it extracted from the other warrior’s mouth the intended result: a chuckle. One thing Kain couldn’t get enough of was the others’ laughter. It soothed his breaking heart, strengthened the conviction of his resolve. He wanted to protect that laughter. He wanted it to brighten this place forever, and not be lost to death in a world destined to fall apart.
"True enough." And with those words, Firion sat beside him with a smile. It was a small one, a little guilty, and worried as ever. Kain knew how anxious he was to return to Sanctuary and ensure his comrades’ safety. It lifted his spirits to see that Firion hadn’t lost his ability to smile, despite his agitation.
They sat like that in the gathering darkness, silent, simply appreciating each other’s presence. That was another thing Kain liked about Firion; he was content to be silent when there was nothing to say, and he was eager to converse when conversation was to be had. He wasn’t loud or pushy, but he had a strong will that drove him on in quiet perseverance. Firion, among all the other Cosmos warriors, was easily Kain’s favorite.
Cecil notwithstanding. Kain hadn’t been feeling like he was ready to face his best friend yet. He knew what their meeting meant; it meant betrayal, once again, after he had sworn time and time again he would never do so again. He told himself again and again, it was to protect him. To protect all of them. Somehow… it just didn’t feel right. He had to believe in what he did, or else he couldn’t do it. Believing was the easy part. It was the doing that would give him nightmares.
He glanced over at Firion now— quiet and reflective— and swallowed. This is what he would die for. This is what he wanted. Moments like this, where everything was comfortable, peaceful, right. He inhaled, savoring the clean air, even as it was tainted by the smell of rusting metal and roses and promises. This he took in from Firion, but all he could give back was a cold sleep and a tomorrow he would have to win for himself.
It was a long while before either of them spoke, and naturally, it was Firion who broke the silence. ”I came to tell you that I built a fire, though I’m sure it’s gone out by now.” A guilty look shadowed the younger warrior’s face, but Kain shook his head, one of his rare smiles appearing.
"Do not trouble yourself over it— a fire can be rebuilt." Firion nodded gratefully, but Kain wondered if he had understood the hidden message behind his words. Most likely not. Firion only understood Kain soul to soul, never through the superficial surface of words and actions.
They stood in unison, unspoken as both understood that the moment had passed. Together, they left a small piece of themselves there in that place, that the memory of those few precious minutes would last forever. Tomorrow, Kain would have to find a way to take Firion out. It wouldn’t be hard; the bond of trust between the two was strong, and grew stronger by each passing hour. But Kain wondered if he could really do it. They had only been together now for a week, but already he felt as close to Firion as he might to Cecil. Now he would have to destroy this bond, as he would with all others.
Tomorrow, Kain would throw this away. Tomorrow, Kain would send his companion off into a new fight without any memories to guide him and no idea what he was really fighting for. But for tonight, he would remain his silent guardian and friend, and he could only pray that he was truly securing all these brave warriors’ futures.