Chapter Text
GAV - I
Four Weeks Since the Destruction of Origin
Hope was beginning to wane that we would ever see Clive again.
The day of – and most of the day after – Origin fell, the hideaway was filled with joy and hope that we hadn’t felt in years. For the years following the destruction of the first hideaway, the threat of Kupka hung over our heads, and after Kupka was gone there was the threat of Ultima to contend with. Now the dark cloud that always seemed to hang over us all in one form or another had lifted. Smiles were more often seen on everyone’s faces and all of those who made their home with us moved as if a weight had been lifted from their shoulders.
A party was held that night. A joint celebration for the birth of Edda’s son and the fall of the last Mothercrystal. Drinks flowed freely around The Tub and Crown, courtesy of Charon’s generosity. Even Blackstone’s ever-surly mug cracked and showed the joy hidden beneath. Perhaps even more surprising, to me at least, was Otto who had gotten himself into a drinking contest with Mid. Neither won their little war, but both found themselves in Tarja’s tender care the next morning as consequence for their game.
The only one who didn’t join in the festivities was Jill. She spent the first few days locked away in Clive’s Chambers, only stepping out to take meals and pass along missives she wanted sent out to our alliants. I had presumed, wrongly as it would turn out, that Jill was distraught over what she thought was Clive’s death while dispatching the final Mothercrystal, and Jill was throwing herself into work to distract herself. Just like we all did after Cid’s death and the destruction of the first Hideaway.
It was with this mistaken belief that I approached Jill on the third morning when she emerged to break her fast with the intention of offering my support and reassurance that Clive was alive. That all of us have gotten through so many scrapes together and survived, what was one more, and that there was no doubt in my mind that Clive survived the encounter with Ultima and destroying Origin.
The smile that Jill gave me, and the words of reassurance she spoke washed away the small doubts I did not even know I was holding onto.
“I know Clive is alive.” Jill spoke so softly I could barely hear her, but her words held a conviction that made it impossible to doubt their sincerity. She looked past me to the sun breaking over the lake as it rose and clasped her hand over her chest.
“Each time I watch the sunrise I feel the truth right here, and that is that Clive will return to me.” Jill then turned to look at me and I could see her eyes shining with a fiery determination that reminded me much of Ifrit’s Dominant. “And until he comes back, I will make use of every resource available to me to help find him and bring him back.”
With those words, Jill stood and strode back into Clive’s chambers. I recall thinking at the time that Clive’s better get his arse back here right quick, as I fear the Twins would not survive if Jill’s crusade to find him.
It was a week later that Jill burst from the room with a vigor. The confident air she had been supporting prior was gone, and in its place were frantic movements. At first I could only assume it meant news on Clive. With hope still burning in my heart, I awaited Jill to announce exactly where Clive was held up. When Jill rushed past me and made her way to the infirmary, all my hope shattered.
Clive and Jill are each other’s closest confidants. How could they not be, with their lives being so bound to one another that they found each other again after 13 years by pure happenstance? This is not even to mention the shared grief and pain they held from their pasts, or the countless adventures and misadventures the two went on together. The two were partners in every sense of the word, and there was little that they failed to confide in one another.
But there were times when each sought out counsel from others. For Clive that confiding his anguish about Jill shouldering the burden of Shiva when he was still unable to summon Ifrit, or more recently the tangled knot of his feelings for the ice Dominant. When Clive needed a confidant beyond Jill, he would come to Otto and I. When Jill did, she went to Tarja.
So, when Jill brushed past us all in her mad rush to the infirmary that day, I presumed the worst. That she finally received news on Clive, and it wasn’t good. I followed slowly, my mind a mess with the possibilities of the news that Jill had received. But each one was capped by the same thought. Clive was dead, he wasn’t coming back. The only small hope I had left came from Torgal, who had chosen to abandon his mistress to catch pieces of yard chocobo tossed to him by Tett and Crow. If Torgal was any other wolf or dog I would not have given it a second thought at that time, but his devout loyalty to Clive and Jill coupled with his current attitude gave me pause. Did the wolf know something that I did not?
That glimmer of hope I was gifted from Torgal was dashed against the stones when I reached the infirmary. Anyone who stayed at the Hideaway knew a few things. First, Clive was in charge, in both name and action. Second, Otto was the one that truly kept the place running. And finally, that the infirmary was Tarja’s personal fiefdom, and her rule there was law that not even Clive or Otto dared break.
Even in the sometimes-cramped quarters of the Hideaway, for Tarja, patient privacy is paramount. To that end visiting hours were strict, those without business in the infirmary were pushed out the door quickly, and the door was to remain shut always. Breaking any of Tarja’s rules would end up with you being at the wrong end of her scapple. A place I found myself one too many times. Only Clive and Jill ever got away with breaking these rules, and that was only because they would burst into the infirmary in such a state that Tarja the Physicker, not Tarja the overlord of the infirmary, would take over.
That is why when I approached the infirmary and saw the door hanging wide open all hope left me. The soft sobs that I heard from inside, clearly were coming from Jill, further removed any doubt from what I already knew. I wanted to run. Turn around and leave the infirmary and not be given the news that awaited inside. Spend those few extra moments in denial where my best friend, someone I thought of as a brother, still lived. I already lost one Cid and that almost broke me down. If not for Clive, I don’t think I could have built myself back from that. If Clive was gone, I don’t think I could survive it.
I knew that living in denial would do me no good. Steeling my resolve, I walked into the infirmary, closing the door behind me. The main room was empty. The day was still early and typically only Tarja and her patients would be here at this time. I could hear whispered voices and soft weeping from the back room. Slowly approaching the words became clearer and I was able to tell that the weeping did not sound sorrowful, but joyful.
“It’s gone. It’s really gone.” Jill’s voice cut through the sobs.
“So it would appear. Do you feel this.” Tarja said back.
I had rounded the corner at this point and could see that Jill was sitting on the far bed, her clothes pushed up to reveal her back. Her back, which had been mired with the effects of the curse, no longer showed any sign of the consequences of Shiva’s power.
“Yes, though the area is a little numb.” Responded Jill. “The whole area still feels stiff, though not nearly as severe as before.”
“How is this possible?”
I had not realized I had spoken out loud until I noticed the stares of Jill and Tarja facing me. The look of pure joy on Jill’s face was something I had never seen before. I don’t think Clive ever got Jill to smile like that, at least not when I was around. Tarja’s expressions, on the other hand, were contemplative, or possibly even confused. I had expected that my being noticed would result in a beratement from Tarja and being thrown out, so Tarja’s request threw me off balance.
“Gav, good.” Tarja took on an air of authority typically held by only Clive or Jill. “Inform all of the bearers that had shown any sign of the curse affecting them to report to the infirmary as soon as possible.”
Tarja turned away from Jill and I and busied herself among her workspace. “We need to know if this is isolated or not. Jill, any chance I can get you to stay in this bed for further observation?”
“No chance at all.” Jill responded. “We need to reach out to our contacts to see if they have seen anything similar amongst those afflicted beyond the Hideaway.”
“I don’t like it but fine.” Tarja relented. “But you come right back here if anything changes.”
“Of course.”
“What are you still doing here?” Tarja rounded on me upon the realization that I was still there. “get going, this is no time to dally.”
I quickly made to leave to avoid bringing Tarja’s ire down upon me. But before I left I recall Jill speaking to no one in particular.
“This can only be a gift from Metia, and if she is still watching over us, then she must still be watching over you Clive.”
I spent the rest of that day running around the hideaway, gathering up anyone that had even shown the smallest trace of the curse. At the end of it all, the reports were all the same. The curse had disappeared or had diminished dramatically from each and every person affected by it. A week later, when the reports from our contacts started to come in, they all recounted the same. All who had been showing signs of the curse saw improvement in their conditions. Even those that were on the verge of succumbing were reported to have movement in their limbs long sought lost.
Perhaps even more shocking were the reports on the blight. The first such report came from Martha who told of the deadlands that once encroached on Eastpool having retreated. She said that the path from Eastpool to Phoenix Gate, which had been lost entirely to the blight, was showing signs of life again. Blackened soil was turning brown and long-dead trees were budding. After Martha’s missive the flood gates seemed to open as each and every contact we had sent messages of the same occurrence. Blight retreating and life returning.
These reports filled the Hideaway with a renewed hope for the future. Hope for a world without the blight and without the curse. This was tempered only slightly by the reports stating that magic no longer worked. Bearers could no longer conjure their magics, and even the largest and clearest of the remaining crystal shards were now inert. While we have learned and survived without magic for years while hiding away in the deadlands, it was easy to recognize the chaos that this would sow throughout Storm.
Despite this, the atmosphere throughout the hideaway was a positive one and filled with hope. This hope, however, did not extend to thoughts of Clive’s survival. A month now had passed since the fall of Origin, and in that time a consensus in the hideaway had developed that Clive, along with Joshua and Dion, had perished in facing Ultima and destroying the last Mothercrystal. They died heroes. But they died nonetheless.
The only one who maintained that Clive was alive without waver or doubt was Jill. She had taken on the role of Cid these last few weeks with a vigor, but swore she was only warming the seat until Clive returned to it. A few folks tried to approach her to accept that Clive was not coming back, and that the sooner she accepted this fact the easier it would be for her to move on. Jill brushed off all of these attempts with a “You’ll see” or a “I promise not to say I told you so” if she was feeling snarky, a rather recent development that I blame Tarja for.
Otto and I had spoken a handful of times about the best way to approach Jill on the topic ourselves as our own faith in his survival dissipated. So far, we haven’t come up with anything. It was that along with the lack of Jill’s need for me in the field that led me to taking up odd jobs around the Hideaway to keep busy. Right now, that meant delivering the most recent messages to Jill.
I found myself flipping through the missives to see who had reported in; Martha and The Dame, expected. Nothing from our people in the Republic yet, but those won’t be later until a few days from now. I stopped. Most of the messages we received are addressed directly to Cid. Even those who knew the true identity of Clive would write to him as Cid in case the messages were intercepted. But this message was addressed to Lady Warrick, and even more puzzling was that it bore the seal of the Order of the Knight Dragoon.
I resisted the urge to crack open and read the missive myself, knowing that I could inquire of it from Jill later. Approaching Clive’s, now Jill’s chambers, I gave a sharp knock.
“Come.” was the immediate response.
The sight inside was one that was growing common over the last few weeks. Jill sat at Clive’s desk, going over reports or drafting letters. Torgal’s head rested in her lap while she absentmindedly scratched the wolf’s ears.
“Gav, are those today’s messages?”
“Aye.”
“Thank you for going through the trouble. I apologize that I haven’t had any call to send you out into the field. But only you and Clive knew all of our scouts around Storm and I feel I would be lost without you without your guidance in that respect.”
“Think nothing of it. I have enjoyed the rest.” I waved off her concerns as I set the messages down on the far edge of the desk. “We have the expected reports from Martha’s Rest and The Veil. But rather unexpectedly is a letter addressed to the Lady Warrick.”
Jill's attention was immediately on me before shifting to the stack of letters. Pulling them towards her to locate the oddity. The sudden movement disturbed Torgal from his resting spot who grumbled before making his way to the corner to lie down.
“Is that…?” Jill gesturing to the seal on the letter.
“The symbol of Sanbreque’s Knights Dragoon, aye.”
“Curious.” Jill moved to crack the seal and read the letter. Stopping, she turned to me again. “Gav, would you mind inquiring from Maeve about what she has cooking today. I will likely be taking my meal once I have reviewed these messages.” Without waiting for a response, she turned her attention back to the letter.
I moved to leave while responding. “Yeah, no problem Jill. I saw her dressing some yard chocobos earlier, so I would wager that’s part of today’s menu.”
I had only just stepped out of the chambers and closed the doors behind me when they burst open again. Had I been a second slower in my movements I would have been caught by the door and thrown down the nearby stairs given the force they were thrown open by. All those around had their eyes trained on the sight before them, and what a sight it was.
Jill stood there and it seemed that waves of confidence flowed from her. Her eyes burning with a familiar fire. The exuberance she is giving off could compare with nothing I have seen before. Even her own Joy at the curse’s disappearance seemed to pale in comparison to the pure happiness that shone from her now. Beneath it all, there was a sense of smugness as she spoke.
“Clive’s at Twinside. He’s alive.”