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The sounds of war were something she'd never truly get used to. The clanking of metal armour, the clashing ring of swords, lances, and other weapons against each other. The hum of ceruleum engines and cries of pain, despair, and...glory. Be it against imperial soldiers or otherwise, Xion truly thought war would never be a sound she could find joy or hope in, necessary though it may be.
But then, it was the sounds of war that made the sounds she was surrounded by now all the more sweet to her ears. Alisaié and Alphinaud, bickering as ever, smiles lighting up the campsite even as they traded jab after verbal jab. Lyse and Thancred nearby, watching them with smiles on their faces as they quietly talked, sometimes to each other, other times egging the younger scions on in their arguments, lending their voices to each side in hopes of causing yet more debate, just to see how far they could go.
Besides them, Urianger, in a rare venture of camaraderie, was leaned against a tree stump next to his and Thancred's tent, reading a book in the light of the sunset, the barest hint of a smile twinging at his lips at the twins' antics. Normally he or Thancred would have stopped them by now, but the day had been long, and everyone seemed to keep to some unspoken agreement that they deserved some time to let loose a little and relax. Everyone, including…
“Ever the busybody, I see.” Y'shtola stepped over to where Xion was splitting some logs for their fire later that night, having come out of her tent after a brief rest to recuperate. “You should take some time to relax yourself, you know. You worked harder than everyone here today, but you still haven't so much as sat down since we made camp.”
Xion grunted as she swung her axe down, splitting a log neatly in two. “I'll relax soon, I promise. There's still some wood to take care of, and--”
She was stopped by a hand on hers, firmly pulling it away from reaching to yet another log. Y'shtola was looking at her, brow furrowed. “If the past hour is anything to go by, you've already amassed plenty of wood for our purposes this evening. Take a break—no one can keep working forever, you know.”
Xion sighed, almost wanting to argue back, but knowing how futile it was. That, and arguing with Y'shtola when she was rather obviously being sensible was akin to fighting uphill in the snow. Against the Ixal. With just a sword and helmet—okay, perhaps she should take a break after all. Xion raised the axe in one hand before bringing it sharply down, embedding it partway in the stump she'd cut to use as her cutting base, and stepped back from it, finally noticing the sizable pile of wood she'd made.
“Well...perhaps you've a point. At least allow me to bring some of this back with me--” That earned her a head shake, and Xion felt a sigh ghost pass her lips. “Alright, alright, someone else can come get it when we need.”
Y'shtola smiled, a touch smug with her victory, and tugged on Xion's hand. “Then come, rest a while. Alphinaud is currently losing three to five in his attempts to debate his sister, but was gaining the upper hand in their current argument when I walked over.”
Xion chuckled at that, and acquiesced, allowing Y'shtola to steer her over to the camp, taking up a spot on a fallen log someone else had dragged over with the sorceress.
“...And without the refined control of Sharlayan aetheromancy, we wouldn't have even been able to regain the lost Nymean scholarly arts! You simply cannot argue that our forebears lacked neither for capability or intelligence, or that the arts I practice are outdated when they bring the modern world to ancient method.” Alphinaud spoke heatedly, hands animated as he retorted back to his sister. Xion could only guess as to what had brought this debate on, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
“And what I am saying, dear brother, is that although it is true that Sharlayan magic is full of capability, it is still the more dangerous magic to practice, as it still tears the aether of our star from it in order to fuel itself. In that regard, it's no different than M'hachi black magic, Amdaporian white magic, and yes, even your Nymean scholarly magics. And it is for that very reason that it becomes an unviable source of strength to rely on, unlike my own red magic, which only draws aether from my own body, and thus doesn't lend itself to, say, causing any umbral calamities!” Alisaié looked confident as she spoke, punctuating her points with the sharp looks she gave her brother. Lyse was about to speak up to support her when Thancred chimed in.
“Well, one's own aether is all well and good, especially for those of you who can still utilize aether at all.” He paused to take a drink from the waterskin in his hands before continuing. “But, and by all means correct me if I'm wrong, isn't there a saying of 'all things in moderation'? Not to mention the wealth of histories left behind by the three civilizations you mentioned. Indeed, I can't think of a better way to remember the lessons they represent than by continuing their magics with frugality in mind.” He smirked as he finished, already seeing the light of confidence return in Alphinauds eyes as the younger man leapt in to capitalize on Thancred's words, earning the rogue a pointed eyeroll from Alisaié and a good natured elbow from Lyse, who was smothering a smile behind the pretense of coughing.
Xion simply relaxed with a smile of her own as the two wore on, leaning her arms on her knees as she bent forward, relishing in the sounds of the camp. Her friends—no, her family, all together, talking and arguing and laughing. A breeze blew through the camp, causing a couple of them to shiver and look around. The sun was starting to dip lower on the horizon, meaning nightfall soon.
“Well, we've worn out even the sun with our little chat here. Brother, do be a dear and help me set up the fire, hm? We can chalk this up as a win for you and call it a day, yes?” Alisaié didn't wait for a response as she stood, already making her way to where she'd seen Xion cutting the wood up earlier. Alphinaud stammered, caught off guard by the sudden interruption, but nodded and stood to follow this well, a bounce in his step at the victory, regardless of how it came.
“I, for one, am glad to finally have a moments quiet from all of that.” Y'shtola raised an eyebrow at the other two scions as she spoke, earning her Lyse's own squirming and Thancred pointedly avoiding her gaze. “I do hope the two of you are ready to cook. I daresay we could all use a proper meal, and given how eager you were to 'help' with that near-constant debate, I'd say you've plenty of energy to prepare dinner for us all.”
Lyse groaned, a crestfallen look on her face as she stood. “Really, Y'shtola, it was all in good fun! I even was able to help Alisaié win one because of what I'd said!” The young monk sighed at the unamused look she got in return, waving a hand as she went over to her pack to pull out some spices and herbs, thanking Urianger when he procured a heavy iron skillet and wooden spoon from his own.
“It's no use, Lyse. You know how she gets.” Thancred stepped past her to the makeshift rack he'd assembled earlier, the corpse of a relatively fresh dodo hanging on it, already plucked and ready to be prepared for dinner. “It's a fools errand to argue with Y'shtola!” Lyse chuckled and busied herself with making the spice rub she'd use later while Thancred started butchering the dodo, seperating the wings and legs from the torso and setting them aside for use.
Xion shook her head, smiling. “As stern as ever. Go easy on them, Y'shtola—you did say to relax after all.” Y'shtola snorted and nudged Xion with an arm, causing the woman to laugh as she resisted, trying to stay on her side of their shared seat.
“I am in agreement with Xion. Although it would hath been wiser to cease their arguments before they wore on, to see Mistress Alisaié and Master Alphinaud sharing their opinions as such befitted an atmosphere of comfort, and reminded mineself of the bygone days in Sharlayan and our own schooling.” Urianger nodded as he spoke, earning him Y'shtola's own eyeroll in return.
“Perhaps, but two hours of such arguing wears on my ears, and I'd much rather enjoy the evening without more trivial notions, such as whether or not sound is indeed relative.” The sorceress looked unamused at the very thought she presented, adding a mutter under her breath afterwards. “If it were, I'd have opted out a while ago in favor of not needing to listen to that conversation.”
Xion giggled at that, escalating to more laughter at the flat stare Y'shtola gave her as she did. “O-oh come on—hahahaha! It's over now, right? No need to keep dwelling on it.” Xion didn't pay mind to the sigh she heard beside her and turned her attention over to Lyse and Thancred, watching as they tackled removing the bones from the dodo breast together.
“...I'm glad we're all together like this, you know. It's nice...especially with everything going on in Ala Mhigo still. Almost feels like we shouldn't be relaxing because of that, but...it's comforting.”
Y'shtola cocked her head to the side, scooting closer to Xion while she spoke, squeezing her hand gently, the hand Xion just now realized hadn't actually left hers since Y'shtola took it to bring her back. That realization alone caused her to blush, and she turned back to look at her friend.
“It's the war itself that makes this time so important. Be you the Warrior of Light or even a common soldier, rest is always necessary, and keeping joy close to you is just as important, if not moreso. Just because we're still fighting doesn't mean you have to never take time for reprieve.”
Xion looked down, eyeing their joined hands out of the corner of her eye. She was still coming to terms with these feelings she had whenever Y'shtola came to mind, or when she was near, or...well, anything involving her. The sorceress made a good point, as pragmatic as always. A trait Xion always appreciated having in her life. “Mmm...” She slowly shifted her hand under Y'shtola's, turning it up and threading her fingers between the Miqo'te's, smiling softly, unaware of the shift in her friends breathing. “Perhaps you have a point. Just maybe.”
Xion looked up, meeting Y'shtola's gaze with a warmer smile. “But I expect you to do the same. Tonight, we relax and enjoy each other's company. All of us.”
After a brief pause, Y'shtola returned the smile, shifting just a bit closer, ignoring the knowing gaze of Urianger, and unaware of Thancred's own behind him. “I already have been. But I suppose I could make more of an effort if you are.” She looked up as the siblings returned, Alphinaud with an armful of logs and Alisaié with a bushel of dried grass for tinder, sighing as she heard their arguments continuing despite Alisaié's earlier call for an end. She opted to simply lean into Xion's side, chatting with her about the days occurrences instead of stepping in once more.
It was later, with the stars shining in the sky, after the fire had been doused and the tents filled with their respective occupants, that made Xion feel the most at ease. The warmth of her bedroll, the feeling of the softer cotton cushioning her against the hard ground...and the sound of Y'shtola's light breathing in the bedroll beside her, having fallen asleep at the very edge, holding onto Xion's hand even as they'd fallen asleep despite the snoring from Thancred in the tent next to theirs.
These things, these sounds, these times...the feeling of peace would never get old.