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The ocean was still now, the sky a clear blue, wind crisp and laced with salt. It spoke nothing of the tempestuous howling, the swirling indigo waves, the shrieking serpent that had dwelled in its depths but hours ago.
It did not speak of a similar storm sitting inside the survivor’s breasts, either.
Seeking the clarity and stillness of heights with a view of the waves, he had not expected to find him up here, sat on the stones, axe by his side. Like this, cast in broad strokes of sunlight and yet with his shoulders hunched, it was hard to see the Warrior of Light as anything but a man with a cruel and merciless gift.
‘Meteor’ is how most know him, though Squall had heard another name spoken between him and his companions. How terribly ironic, to be known as the thing you failed to prevent. Squall did not envy the man.
“Are they looking for me?” he asked, and Squall shook his head.
“I came up here for what I can only guess is the same reason you did,” he said quietly, casting his eyes out to the lapis waves. “But it seems this spot is very much claimed— I’ll be taking my leave.”
Squall turned to go, wondering where would serve as a similar spot, but—
“You fought well today.”
Turning back, Meteor had a small smile on, though it only thinly veiled the pain in his eyes. It had only been a few short hours, after all.
How could he respond to that? Not well enough was the truth, for them both, as nothing could be said to ease that pain. In other circumstances perhaps it would be rude to assume his intentions, but…
“Don’t force cordial responses for my benefit. Take the time you have, even if its not enough.”
Meteor’s eyes widened, a breath leaving his body as he turned his head back to the ocean. There was a patient silence, the only sound being the lapping waves before he spoke again.
“…will you listen for a moment?”
Squall’s mind balked. The Warrior of Light, offering up his problems? Many would jump at the idea to be privy to such, but Squall…he was not so naïve. Squall didn’t want other people’s burdens. But to some degree, he felt responsible for this. As would the other five who had been on that boat, he supposed – a sense of survivor’s guilt. Especially so for those among them who were not Warriors of Light, like himself. One of the saviours of Eorzea was gone, and yet he was still here.
Meteor asking for a few moments of his time…he could manage that at least.
“Yes.”
A little of the tension eased from Meteor's shoulders.
“Her name was Lamita Mita. I met her in Gridania some six years ago, before the Calamity.”
Lamita. Squall remembered. One does not the despairing shriek of a name, as a person watches a loved one be snatched away.
Meteor swallowed. “There’s too much to say. Much and more she’d scold me for mentioning.
Its…its hard to imagine what’ll be like without her.”
Fingers curling into his palms for a moment, Squall took a few tentative steps, and sat down next to him. “It’ll hurt to try. Best to stay present, as much as you can.”
“I know. Gods, I know,” Meteor said, a small quiver in his voice as he shook his head. “She was there that day. Louisoix gave everything to ensure we survived, and we’ve given our all to keep Eorzea safe. Losing her like this—”
He slammed his fist into stone beneath them, teeth clenched as he let out a breath. “She deserved better. From this world…from me.”
Squall exhaled, mulling over his next words. There was a lot that could be said, but none was reassuring, or would in any way lift the burden on his heart. It was doubtful any words could do so, but he felt like he owed him enough to at least try.
“You don’t need to say anything,” Meteor said, noting Squall’s silence. “I could probably achieve the same as I am doing with a wall.”
A small chuckle left Squall. “If it were anyone else, I would’ve already told you to shove off and do just that,” he admitted with a small shrug. “But…I was there. I saw all that unfolded. Today…and back then.”
Meteor’s eyes widened, but Squall continued talking before he could say anything.
“I think above all else…those of us who come into adventuring and end up fighting for the people’s sake, for Eorzea’s sake, we know it may cost us our lives someday. There’s no expectation of living a long life. Some days you can do naught more than save yourself, but on the days when even that isn’t possible…going out knowing you saved others…”
Squall looked up at the sky, as a seagull flew by. “You’ll hold on with every ilm, wanting just a bell more, but when you can hold on no longer, that knowledge is the last light. At least that’s how I feel about it.”
Meteor followed his gaze, a small smile forming.
“Aye…can’t show it much these days, but when I do feel that fear…it’s the same light that keeps me going too. Knowin’ I’ve made a difference. Knowing there’s people sleeping safe and warm because I fought with every breath in my body.”
Squall blinked, raising an eyebrow at the other man. “Surprised you’re admitting as much.”
A laugh followed, and Meteor stood, offering a hand to help Squall up, which he took.
“You don’t seem like the type who’s buying into the invincible hero act, so I’m not going to waste my time nor yours with it.”
Meteor’s expression softened, gaze returning to the ocean. “Thank you for lending an ear. Can’t imagine it’s been easy on you either, but you still gave me the time of day. It’s appreciated.”
Squall shook his head. “Don’t dwell on it.”
With a small huff, Meteor clapped him on the back, walking a few paces back toward the aetheryte. “Then at the very least, I’ll leave you a chance to brood also. Don’t be a stranger, aye?”
With a wave, he turned fully, walking away from the spot, the sunlight catching his outline and the shape of his armor. It was like in the blink of an eye, the man fled from sight, again replaced by the Warrior of Light, the hero, the man who would undoubtedly face more grief than any man ought to.
No…Squall did not envy him in the slightest.