Chapter Text
“Another victory under the Little Wolf’s belt! He truly is unstoppable!”
R’akhan Tia stood, chest heaving, over his latest conquest. A Hyuran man, nearly double his size with a sword even larger. He swiped a rough tongue over the ridge of his knuckles, wrinkling his nose at the salty tang of blood. More there than last time...this man had been a formidable opponent. But this pain in his chest...it wasn’t from any of the many blows or cuts he had taken, he was sure. No, this ache was bone deep. Exhaling shakily, he clutched at his loose top, feeling the erratic pounding of his heart- and the low growl of The Wolf- easily mistaken for the rush of blood in his ears.
“Kill,” it sang, “Spill more and more blood."
No. That wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to kill anymore...to be in the hell of pain and suffering that was the Bloodsands. R’akhan’s knees hit the dirt, the strength drained from once confident limbs. Stronger arms reached for his shoulders, but the young Miqo’te was fading fast. The ache in his chest spread to his head, and he nearly cried out as his body throbbed in tune to a different voice. Her voice. The one who had made him like this...continued to torment him in countless ways. Deprived him of a life, of family, of peace and happiness… “
Just leave me alone already, Hydaelyn…!” He snarled through grit teeth- before his vision went black.
“And now look at me. Faithfully doing your bidding like a tamed coeurl. Imagine that." Rockefeller Sirhan stood, staring coldly down at his latest conquest. A Coerthan Aevis, nearly triple his size with talons to match. He spun his axe, dotting the ground with the creature's blood.
“You did it…! Though, I suppose not even a dragon could be a match for one of Hydaelyn's Chosen...”
“Don’t call me that,” Rocky huffed to the man, one of many sure-to-be-short-term allies over the course of his travels. A soft-hearted Elezen hailing from Gridania- though they met here in freezing Coerthas- two adventurers woefully out of their comfort zone.
“I’m no servant to some crystal.”
“Ah- You mean Hydaelyn? So you hear Her voice too…”
“What of it?”
“U-um...nothing.” The Elezen’s shoulders hunched, turning his eyes to the snowy trail. “That wound...I should take a look at it.”
Rocky turned towards him wordlessly, though winced as he remembered the one hit the dragon had managed to land. Peeling away the layers of armor, Rocky sucked in a hiss of air as the wound flared to a burning pain. Three ragged scores across his torso, where the dragon’s talons had caught him as he recovered from a particularly reckless swing. The young Elezen’s brow only furrowed in concern, and he aimed a glimmering white staff.
“If I may say as much,” The white mage murmured as he worked, “You fight so recklessly. I am no novice at magic, but I can only do so much to mitigate your injuries before-”
“I’m not new to combat, either,” Rocky snapped, half irritable from pain. “I’ve been fighting a long damn time, and seen worse than this.”
“Yes, I noticed the scars. It is not my place to ask, as a mere acquaintance, so I will not. But just because you have seen worse...does not mean that you should still subject yourself to such pain.”
Rocky glanced down at him, but the white mage fell silent, the frustration and worry clear in his features.
“Tch.”
Once the soft warmth of healing magic faded, he white mage wrapped a bandage around the place where Rocky’s wound had once been with a satisfied hum. Though nothing remained- not even a scar- it seemed it was simply an act of good measure.
“All done!” The smile he offered Rocky was radiant, and the Miqo’te felt like he almost had to squint. “It healed just fine, but please...be a bit more careful. Not just because I ask it of you, but…”
The elezen man trailed off, punctuating the sentence with another gentle pat to the bandaged wound. “Shall we be off, then?”
“Sure…” Rocky stood, coughing a bit awkwardly and running a nervous hand over the fur of his ears. “Say, Elezen.”
The blonde man jumped slightly, a direct address apparently unexpected. “Y-yes…?”
“...What do they call you?”
A surprised blink met him for a moment, before fading into a gentle smile. “My name is Clarion. Clarion Shiloh. Warrior of Light.”
“Rocky Sirhan. Not ‘Hydaelyn's Chosen.’”
“Ah- right…! It is a pleasure to travel with you...Rocky.”
“...Yeah.”