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The air smelled of death and ceruleum, of burning metal and flesh. Estinien’s eyes and nostrils stung at the thick, acrid smoke that dirtied the air. His childhood had come to a very sudden end when war had arrived at Ferndale. He was used to the horrors of battle. This, though, was something else altogether from what he’d spent his life fighting. He had loathed the dragons but at least he had understood them. He could not understand great, lumbering machina that killed for no thought as to why. It was all they existed for. Their masters were none better, gobbling up land simply because they felt they ought. That they had the right.
Estinien leapt across the field of battle, passing the bodies of Garleans and Eorzeans alike. He left them to a silent word and a dip of his head. There was naught that could be done for the fallen and those yet wounded would be better served by a healer. He was there, as ever, to lend his lance and hope he could hasten an end to the conflict.
He helped where he could but didn’t stay on any one part of the field long. Fighting raged in every direction. The Garleans, who had seemed to be flagging when first he arrived, had gained a renewed vigor. He hoped to find out why. One person was bound to be at the center of it all and he aimed to find her. He just needed to know where in all this chaos to start.
“The Azure Dragoon!” came a shout from somewhere to his left.
“The Azure Dragoon has joined the fray!” came another.
Estinien no longer sat quite as comfortably under his old title but he would wear it now if the soldiers were heartened by it. In any case, given the enthusiasm, it was safe to say he’d found the Ishgardian contingent. Sure enough, not far away, was a familiar figure clad in blue. Estinien was happy to see Aymeric looked tired but well.
The other man offered a bright smile that belied any weariness. “I’m gladdened to see you join the field of battle at last, my old friend.”
“Sorry to be late. Though it looks like I haven’t missed all the fun,” Estinien said with a small smile of his own. He craned his neck, expecting to see more familiar faces. “I had thought to perhaps find Alphinaud or one of the other Scions at your side.”
Aymeric’s face dropped. “Do you not know?” Estinien could see an entire conversation run behind his friend’s eyes but not another word was said on the matter. Instead he pointed over a distant rise. “If you’re looking to help the Scions, the Warrior of Light passed to the north not long ago. Given the direction, I’d wager Zenos is her quarry.”
Estinien’s mouth thinned. He did not regret his travels— he’d not have been in a place to help with any battle without first settling the one that had raged inside him. However, he couldn’t help but feel it left him jumping into the unknown. He’d have to worry about that later, when explosions weren’t ringing in the air.
“Then I’ve found my prey, as well,” he said.
He tipped his lance at Aymeric by way of a parting salute and jumped toward the nearest fallen colossus. He sprang from it to the next mound of scrap and then onto the next. He could get a better view of the battle ahead from such a height. While there was fighting everywhere, it was impossible to miss either the Warrior of Light or the Garlean prince she battled.
She was high in the air when first he spotted her, diving down with all the fury of Dalamud. Zenos slashed at her and, while the wave of energy he sent was enough to slice sheets of metal on the ground as it traveled upward, it was not enough to hit her. She launched off a plate of flying shrapnel, twisted in the air to avoid the blow meant to fell her, and struck Zenos instead. A cloud of dust exploded outward from the force of the impact. Estinien paused, perched on a twisted slab of metal. A smile spread across his face.
He’d had no doubt of who would part that battle the victor.
Soon, not only did doubt rear its ugly head but confusion as well. Zenos rose to his feet as a puppet pulled upright by strings. The Warrior of Light did not seem surprised by this. She easily countered when Zenos charged back into the fray. The fight appeared destined to find the same end it had moments before until, quite suddenly, she staggered. For Estinien’s eyes, none of Zenos’ blows had landed and yet she was stricken to her knees.
Estinien watched Aubrey rise back up only to stumble back and fall again. He didn’t stay to watch after that. Whatever was happening— whatever he could not see— he would not let her perish because of it.
“Nidhogg,” he growled, tightening his grip on his bloodied lance, “let us show him what a dragon can do.”
He launched into the air and, as Aubrey had not long ago, fell on Zenos with enough force to lay the prince flat. He didn’t spare the Garlean another look. Whether Zenos intended to rise again or not, Estinien didn’t plan on giving him the chance to strike again. He scooped Aubrey up into his arms and left the field to deliver her to safety.
She was entirely unresponsive in his arms. For a terrifying moment, he thought her dead. When last they’d met, she’d all but asked him to stay by her side. Was there something wrong with her? Had she known this was coming? Why hadn’t she said as much? Before panic could win out, Estinien paused long enough to see her chest rise and fall and he was able to breathe again himself.
“What keeps you, my friend?” he murmured. Holding her close, he could see no obvious wounds nor anything that would render her still as a corpse. Still, even when he shook her gently, she did not wake. “Aubrey…”
There was a painful twist in his chest. He wasn’t sure how but he had failed her. She had been there for him when he needed it most and he had walked away when it was clear she had wanted him to stay.
No. He had not failed her yet. She yet breathed and he could make sure she continued to do so. He could, at the very least, deliver her from the jaws of the enemy as she had once done for him. And there was one man he knew he could trust above all others to make sure she was cared for.
Aymeric’s blue eyes widened when Estinien returned from behind enemy lines with Aubrey held limp in his arms. “What happened? Is she alright?”
“She might have lost her head were I not in time to snatch her from sword’s edge. Still, she is not wounded. That much is all I can say. She fell without any obvious injury.”
Aymeric’s expression darkened. “Then we can only hope she awakens once more.” He lowered his voice so only Estinien might hear. “The other Scions have all had a similar fate. One was struck before my very eyes and, as I hear, has remained senseless to the world ever since.”
That explained why he hadn’t seen any of the Scions. It wasn’t like them to be missing when there was such trouble afoot. All the more so for one idealistic young man who would have talked everyone out of war had he been given the chance or, failing that, would have run himself ragged healing every fallen soul on the battlefield.
Estinien frowned down at Aubrey. It seemed impossible that she would fall and simply never awaken. One such as she was not made for such an ignoble end. His grip on her tightened marginally before he laid her carefully before Aymeric.
“Watch over her for me, will you?”
Aymeric’s eyebrows raised. “You’re leaving so soon? You could stay, lest she awaken again. I’m sure yours is a face that she would be happy to see if she did.”
Estinien scrunched his nose at the presumption. At the same time he couldn’t ignore the repeated stab of his heart as he recalled waking to see her and Alphinaud at his bedside. He shook his head. “I can do little for her by waiting around. I will fight to make sure she has something to wake up to.”