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The life of Allora Thaltassil was one of answering one call-to-action only for as soon as the last call finished she would find herself needing to answer another call. For a few years now she had been filling chosen hero role after chosen hero role. If she was being honest, not that she would admit it out loud, she was pretty sick and tired of this. Each and every adventure leading into another world ending plot. Friends being overtaken by ancient beings that her soul might be descended from, dragons and priests trying to overthrow everything, the ever looming facist threat of Garlemand and its bioengineering, battle-madened princes. And now, a world on the verge of dying, that in its final death wail would bring untold and unimaginable destruction to her home.
If heroism is just a call to be answered for those we have lost, for those we can yet save, she couldn’t help but wonder, in the darkest of her moments, if she had never taken that carriage to Ul’dah if she could have avoided all this. If she could have just lived a life as a standard adventurer, drinking drink, collecting gold, selling trinkets. If her life could have been so much easier. Surely, since she wasn’t there, someone else would have got that fate. That isn’t to say that she would want to give up her friends. But in our darkest times, everyone finds themselves wondering “what if I hadn’t gone down this road”, and Allora was no exception to this.
Normally, the child of two adventurers would have big shoes to fill, already bursting full of expectations. There would be an expectation of boldness for any child in such a situation. Not for Allora however. No. Allora wasn’t expected to be bold. If anything, her parents expected her to be meek. It wouldn’t be fair to say she had a bad childhood. There wasn’t abuse, nothing of the sort. It was just that her dreams didn’t overlap with her parents desires. Perhaps that reality was what sent her out of the forest and into the wide world, finding her way into Eorzea, where she first properly started her adventuring life in Ul’Dah.
Closing her eyes she could still see the dull haze of the quicksand, still hear the murmur of adventurers and clients talking in hushed whispers and loud bellows. The clank of tankards distinct and reverbant as the flow of mead and other drink seemed endless. At the time, it had almost been a sensory overload. But it all started there, there or on the carriage ride right before she got to the city when she met the twins and they first weaseled their way into her heart. They made fine traveling companions on the cart, even if they seemed to spend a fair bit of it sleeping. The trouble with charting when your adventures begin, at least in Allora’s humble opinion, was that there’s no one true moment. Adventuring is a spirit. One that’s been a fire in her soul as long as she’s lived. Aether is strong in her, always has been and hopefully, always will. And, a long time has passed at this point, and she’s come so far, there isn’t much wisdom in spending too long looking back, lest you risk losing track of what’s truly ahead.
Sitting there in the upper balcony area of Revenant's Toll, Allora watched the bickering of Alisae and Alphinaud as they contemplated what the next best move was for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. Turning her head she saw Y'shtola lost in meditation. Allora contemplated what part of the life stream and what far reaching corner of the world the masterful mage might be exploring. Coming home made many messes clean, but seemed only to complicate everything more. Both Thancred and Urianger were sitting a table over, sharing a plate of meat and cheese, deep in conversation about something she couldn’t quite hear. Ever since their journey into the empty, the two have seemed closer and more intimate, something to consider for another time. And then she heard a crash. That could only be one person. G’raha Tia.
Always first to react, this time was no different for the Warrior of Light. Leaping out of her chair she grabbed the stone railing of the balcony that her and, most of, her compatriots were lounging upon and dived off. By rolling a few times before effortlessly leaping into a dash from her roll she was able to completely avoid any damage from the fall. Quickly, she sprinted around the corner running out to where G’raha Tia had been training with the other younger scions. Their goal was to get strong enough to go on missions without any of the more senior members guiding them. Everything was so busy, all of the time, that an accelerated course of study was in order. A collection of wood and metal and wheels, axels and other acrotuments for a wagon were smashed and askew across the left side of the north gate to town. In the center of it all, half covered in wood and metal, G’raha, the other young scions groaning in a couple piles. Allora could see the cat boy breathing, so he was alive, easily patched up with some healing magic. That meant, she didn’t need to be worried, she could be cross instead.
“G’raha Tia, what did I say about makeshift tools?” Allora barked, crossing her arms under her chest and stomping the ground to punctuate her words. Her eyes stared daggers into the man as he slowly pulled himself out.
“Not to involve them without-” he started gingerly, and Allora joined him so that they spoke in unison, “express permission from your comrades.”
Allora smiled, “good,” she appraised quickly as she leaned over G’raha, a glow of white light encasing her hand as she channeled Aether to heal his wounds, quickly moving to each of the new scions helping them to their feet.
“Now hopefully this mishap will be the beginning of your understanding the importance of team communication…” she sighed as she began to help clean up the mess. So much for the easy afternoon off with the twins while these 7 ran basic combat drills. And speak of the devil…
Alisae and Alphinaud both arrived right on Allora’s heels, it seemed the others felt that the two were enough back up, if anything, they were overkill for this. As the twins appraised the scene, Allora smirked as she watched both their expressions of worry sink into relief. From there, Alphinaud’s expression morphed to contemplation, and Alisae’s to rage.
“So what exactly was the goal of this contraption? G’raha?” Alphinaud asked, only to be cut off by his sister.
“By the Twelve Alphinaud, who the bloody hell cares about the purpose, he could have caused serious damage, which he hopefully has learned better than to do again!” she cried, stomping her foot and placing a hand on her hip. Alphinaud took a step back while Allora stifled a giggle at them. The twins were always good for a laugh.
“In the interest of science, and explanation, so as to not tax Alphinaud with wondering the truth of the matter about my goal and costing him precious focus at a later date wondering what it was, I shall explain.” G’raha offered, and before he could be told not to, or really anyone had fully parsed what he had said, he continued speaking, “I was attempting to use a cart with extended siding to vault the wall. Regrettably, my measurements were off by a Fulm or two, and resulted in this mess.” He finished his explanation with a somber tone, gesturing vaguely at the pile of wood, sprockets, wheels, and the sort.
Alphinaud perked up in interest, and Allora watched Alisae’s face contort between three or four distinct versions of frustration. It definitely wasn’t going to be a quiet afternoon.
The idea was a concoction of both Alisae and Y'shtola’s design. A dive into various dungeons, each of the young scions paired up with a more experienced one. A classic adventure, pairing up to devel deep and find some loot. Each duo would go to a different corner of the world. The theory: real experience would instill the reality of the danger of their work, and the importance of taking things as seriously as possible. They drew lots, and as luck, fate, or some other force, perhaps a whimsy of Ryne back on the First, would have it, Allora and G’raha were teamed up.
G’raha and Allora found themselves journeying into the Coerthas Central Highlands. At the top of a snowy hill, accompanied only by the crunch of their boots into the snow, and the chill of the winds howling that otherwise docil afternoon they found a stack of stones with a waning moon icon embedded into it. The symbol of Menphina, the Lover, keeper of the once-twin and now-lone moons and the goddess of love, commands the element of ice and is associated with the First Umbral Moon was facing them. Somehow, some trick of Aether, they would be able to use this waypoint to find a buried temple to her. The perfect dive into a dungeon for practical experience.
“Thal’s balls, it is quite cold isn’t it?” G’raha observed in a slightly terse tone, shivering under his various robes and armour. Red tufts of fur poked out from his hood and the normally sharp points of his ears receded against his skull in an attempt to keep warm. A pink flush indistinguishable from a blush tinted his face as his blood tried to keep him as warm as possible. In all things, he was insufferably cute.
“You’ll get used to it, once we’re inside, it’ll probably be suspiciously warm anyways,” Allora began as she turned to look down at the cat boy. She wrapped an arm around him, a difficult task thanks to their height difference, and G’raha Tia’s tail responded as if an electric shock had coursed through him, standing on end, whipping excitedly. They stayed like that for a moment both examining the stone.
“I promise, I will become a better teammate. Though I do have a proclivity for half truths as time as the Crystal Exarch, I will continue to endeavour to leave that part of myself behind,” he began somberly, averting his eyes from Allora. She gave a pity filled smile as she leaned down to look G’raha in the eyes.
“Worry not G’raha, you are doing wonders. I don’t think it’s an issue of your memories of your life as the exarch leading you to misdeeds” she began, playfully bonking the young man on the nose. “More aptly, it’s the youthful, boyish soul of yours I love so much. This isn’t a journey of petance, of retribution, this is just more training. Letting your new old new body get up to speed with the old new old mind you got up here.” She finished, caressing the side of the catboy’s face. Her eyes pierced deep into his soul and he looked back. His mouth agape slightly, close and closer they began leaning into each other. From a distance any would swear they were about to kiss. But not yet.
A smirk developed across her lips when their faces were less than an ilm apart. Quickly and suddenly she hoisted him up on her shoulders and held him in place. G’raha called out in surprise as he was raised into the air by his hips and, to Allora’s credit, ceremoniously, placed upon her shoulders. His legs framing her chest as she twisted around to face the rock formation, G’raha’s tail whipping in the wind, “if my theory is right, using Aether in this spot. . . should activate. . . something. Even at my height, I can’t reach and channel with the precision needed however, so do give a hand G’raha dear.” She finished, twisting her head to side eye and smirk at him.
Gulping G’raha nodded as he began mumbling a series of half thoughts, aether channeled in his hands in the process. “Lightning begets… fire would bu… cinders lead to ic…. perhaps though I…. Even still...” the words were half breaths and barely audible. Allora, a master adventurer, had no problem hearing the words he was saying, but even she wasn’t sure as she listened to the dulcet tone of his murmurs she could explain what exactly he was getting at. What she could determine however was that it seemed though, whatever the activation spell needed was, was more complex than she anticipated.
Time passed and Allora developed a slight sweat as G’raha continued the channeling of the spell. Finally, after what felt much longer than at all reasonable. Honestly these ancient people hiding temples should have thought more about the needs of the adventurers who wish to delve into them, G’raha let out a whooping sound. The rocks crack. Firstly slowly, barely a hairline fracture, but spreading quickly, becoming larger and larger until the formation was more crack than rock. And then the rumble. Strong and hard under their feet the force roared. As if all or Eorzea was shaking, perhaps the entirety of the planet even. A force of wind knocked the two of them rolling down the hill. Shrapnel of rock flying each and every way. An explosion of light pillaring into the heavens above.
Covered in snow, and now bruises Allora slowly propped herself up into a push up position. Her hair hung off her face, dangling onto G’raha who she instinctively hugged into her body to protect him. He was less beat up than her, but completely under her body. Her hips were awkwardly straddling one of his legs and snow was caked on both of their bodies. His visible fur looked quite damp, and his tail was still relaxing, fluffed up in shock.
“I swear, I’m not normally this forward on a first date,” Allora teased, as gingerly she got to her feet, offering G’raha a hand up.
“My word,” G’raha said as he took her head, completely bashful at her choice of words.
“Well, let’s get up there and see what we’ve unearthed,” Allora continued, smirk returned as she tugged the cat boy behind her and he struggled to keep up, not wanting to let go of her hand but his shorter legs struggling to maintain pace with her long well defined calves that had just been… he shook his head removing any impure thoughts as they quickly got back to the top of the hill.
Smoke from the heat of the pillar of light rose from an unassuming staircase leading down into the hill. The snow on the plateau had completely evaporated and no sign of the marker remained. Only the scorched earth showed any sign that anything once stood here. A deep ashy black crescent moon burned into the dead soil. A faint light beckoned the two down into the caverns below.
“In for a Gil in for a ponze” Allora offered, gesturing for G’raha to lead the way.
“Feels more like a tonze in this case” G’raha countered but without any actual resistance let go of Allora’s hand, ears flopping in disappointment as he began to lead the way. The stairs were a finely etched marble, imprinted with more and more crescent moon symbols beckoning them, daring them to follow the carefully placed stone bricks built inconspicuously in the dirt as if they had always belonged there. The occasional stone had long dormant scratch marks and other blemishes, the only sign of any adventurer that had come before them. All pointing inwards, none outward. People go in, but it seemed, none had come out.
In their first fight, there was no way else to put it, G’raha Tia royally messed up. Flinging spell after spell, more and more monsters descended upon him. Dozens of small, yet deadly imp like fiends of varying colour and elemental affinity. Allora’s tricks and magic could not keep up. She watched G’raha cut up, with claw mark after claw mark, leading to her slashing her daggers faster and faster. And then, a taller, more stout imp appears brandishing a great sword the size of Allora. It cleaves across G’raha’s chest with ease and Allora cries out in fear, in horror. In rage. No matter what, she wouldn’t let anyone else die under her care. She would never let a death like Haurchefant’s death happen before her eyes again so long as she can breathe. No, so long as she draws breath, for those she has lost, for those she has saved, she will be stronger, she will be the hero they need.
Allora forms a flurry of hand signs, slamming her fist in the ground and a frog appears. It ribbits and releases a torrent of flame, cutting out a host of the imps. Handstanding to G’raha’s side she finds herself in a whirl of blades, throwing daggers at 4 imps in quick succession, only to behead another with a quick slash of a dagger. Grabbing G’raha with one hand she holds the bleeding cat to her chest, and quickly forms more hand seals, the acuity of it tough as she struggles to keep G’raha in her arms, but she’s successful. 5 shadow clones appear around her as she places G’raha on the floor. Channeling aether in her hands she begins to dress his wounds as the shadow clones fight and distract the imps. Finally, there’s only one left. Slightly larger and taller, with the same sword that cut the hole in G’raha’s chest, it makes quick work of her clones. Confident his wounds are healed and he’s stabilized, she turns her back on her companion to face the final foe.
The imp leaps into the air, flying down, the sword crashing hard into the ground. Allora rolls, raising her blades above her head as she does, the knives slashing deep across its chest. It cries out in pain, and then suddenly, she’s stabbing it in the back. Quite the trick attack. Her specialty. The fiend evaporates. Allora rushes to his side.
She scoots his head in her lap, pulling down his hood and gingerly brushing at his hair, scratching behind his ears. “You’ll be okay” she whispers, interlocking her other hand with his. Slowly, his eyes flutter open.
“It appears…” he began,
“you/I bit off more than you can chew” they finished in unison. Allora smiled a tired smile.
“Shall we try this again?” she asked with her eyes, not actually uttering the words. And he nodded in response. Neither moved however, and slowly, but carefully she planted kisses across the back of the hand she had her fingers interwoven with.
“Be more careful, please” she said aloud this time as the two got up, not letting go of one another’s hand until they absolutely had to.
The journey after through the twisting seven floors of the dungeon was mostly standard. During their dive, as they fought battle after battle, G’raha went from silent participant, often getting in over his head by not properly communicating to more and more active leader in battle. It was as if he was tapping back into one hundred years of battle experience as they fought back to back, side by side. He was growing leaps and bounds as an adventurer at breakneck speeds, learning in mere minutes what took Allora years or months to learn. Going from wandering directly into traps to quickly pointing out traps before Allora accidentally triggered them. It was almost infuriating, but it was also insanely attractive if Allora was being honest with herself.
Finally, Allora recognized the familiar shimmer of purple aether. They had found the deepest part of the dungeon. Two fiends hovered in the air. One seemingly a blazing ball of fire aether, shimmering like the sun in the sky, the other, a crystalline orb hovering shimmering and radiating an evanescent shimmer of pure hold. “In for a tonze indeed!” Allora quipped, swallowing the last bit of spit in her mouth, suddenly feeling an intense dryness. She took a swig from her water bottle. Letting out a sigh of relief she offered the flask to G’raha who graciously took it, and gulped back the final few mouthfuls of water. Allora bit into some jerked beef, while she watched G’raha stuff some into his mouth as well. Both of them smiled, feeling the renewed aether flow through them. Nothing like a culinarian’s meal or snack to give an adventurer the extra edge needed in battle.
They walked in, on opposite sides of the arena. The walls had changed from the polished stone ages ago into a rough dirt. This was a holy place. Some would scoff at the claim, but adventurers knew better. Holy places are natural. They’re older than the people who worship what they represent. Stone is technology, a cave carved into the dirt isn’t, it’s that simple. Allora pulls out her twin blades, ready for battle. G’raha redies his staff and the familiar ting of aether walls rung out in the battle chamber, Allora could feel it in her gut, this was the final battle before their prize.
The two are a dervish duo of pure unadulterated trust. To beat these creatures, they quickly realized they needed to use the sun’s attacks against the moon, and the moon’s attacks against the sun. The two needed to die at the same moment else, they would resurrect and the battle would begin all over again. It took some time, it took some close calls, but the warrior of light’s ability to quickly swap job crystals made them nigh on invincible. And then, after an hour of constant battle, it was done. The Fiends blew Fire and Ice and they struct each other into a brilliant purple explosion of Aether. Lighting struck out across the battlefield. Allora hid behind a shield generated by G’raha at nary the last minute. Smoke plummed and filled the room, causing both adventurers to choke as they breathed in. But, the battle was complete, and to the victors, the spoils.
In the center, a small chest sat. And inside, a pair of rings. Silver in colour, with again, waning crescent moons etched into the side. “By the light, I believe these may be what inspired Eternal bonding rings.” G’raha mouthed, half aloud, half to himself. A whisper full of shock, and contemplation. But he continued expositing not even noticing how close Allora had got, her chest pressing into his back as she looked over his shoulder to investigate the rings herself.
“The Aether flowing between them is like a magnet,” G’raha began but Allora cut him off.
“there’s a deeper spell too, they should grow stronger, as the wearer does, making the wearer’s natural aetheric energy even stronger. No Benefit to wearing both however, seems to be an overload. So…” Allora observed, and G’raha, pouting slightly about the fact that he couldn't reveal the second spell, offered no resistance as she plucked both rings from his hand, quickly slipping one on her finger. She felt stronger instantly. And then she twirled around. She ended kneeling down, one knee raised higher than the other so she was on equal eye level with G’raha, it just, wasn’t possible for her to fully get below him, and she offered the other ring.
“Will you be my anchor. My guarantee that there’s a home to escape to. My promise that no matter where I go, you’ll be back there, I believe you’re wise enough for it now.” Her voice, deadly serious. None of the usual rum or vinegar. In truth, she chose this dungeon because of the rumour of the prize within.
G’raha stared, mouth agape for several seconds. “I shall,” he spoke somberly. His fingers wiggled nervously as his fur puffed slightly from the anxiety. Their faces moved closer and closer, ilm by ilm until finally, suddenly, and without warning Allora slipped the ring on G’raha’s hand and closed the gap. Hungrily and needingly she kissed him. Their lips, scarred and charred from battle formed to each other perfectly. Allora nibbled on his lower lip as he sucked on her upper. A union long coming finally completed as both of their hands gripped the other’s arms, not wanting to let go no matter what, all the while, pressing their chests into each other as the two tumbled to the dirt floor rolling, refusing to surface for breath as they kiss and kiss and kiss.
The tumbling stopped but the kissing didn’t. Allora on her back, her long locks of hair splayed out underneath her. G’raha’s body pressed into her chest as she rubbed her hand up and down his back, petting him, occasionally sliding it further to give his tail a quick and playful stroke. Their kisses had developed to quick rapid smackings of their lips to each other, still occasionally interrupted by long, slow explorations of each other’s mouths, their tongues tangoing in the space created when their lips fused in a flurry of sucking and teething.
G’raha’s tail flicked rapidly, running along and around Allora’s leg with wild abandon as one of her hands found his ass and squeezed it firmly, and then her other hand found his other cheek and squeezed into it with just as much ferocity. Breath ragged, more worked up than any fight could ever have hoped to get her, she hoisted G’raha into the air once more, and with a few quick motions had him kabedoned against the wall, pinned there by her chest holding him in place as her lips found his neck and experimentally kissed it. Once, twice, thrice, suckling and increasing in intensity as his mewling grew louder and louder.
Smugly, and playfully, G’raha let out a little blast of Wind aether, and it pushed Allora back. He leaped at her, his arms wrapping around her, legs firmly around her waist, but he didn’t expect her to stay standing. He gulped in the realization of the instant swap back to her dominance. She slowly, carefully untangled one of his arms and pinned it between their bodies, holding im in the air with a single arm draped across his back. Bringing his hand to her lips, slowly she smacked each knuckle. Her lips suckling for a second leaving a mixture of moist spit, her thirst for him with the traces of lipstick. And then she couldn’t resist and was kissing him again, her hands digging into his hips, sliding him up and down her body. A mound, erection forming in his pants which she carefully positioned, leaning down, as she slid him away, not wanting the kiss to end.
For several seconds, she used him almost like a toy. His penis a dildo hidden behind cloth and string, that she pressed on her pussy firmly, holding all his weight by his hips. Both of them, their breath ran more and more ragged. Just as it felt like, both would explode, they fell into a sweaty pile of emotion, a heap, cuddled close to one another. She kissed his forehead once more. The booty plundered, after a short rest, they would go home, hand in hand.