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Three days had passed since the Final Days were averted and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn returned from the edge of the universe.
On that third day, Krile entered a room full of thorns.
Half-dead vines covered in thick thorns tangled over the ceiling and curled upon the floor. Like snakes, they were coiled around the posts of the single hospital bed where one Lalafellin woman sat. When Krile entered, that woman’s large lilac eyes fell upon her in a mix of apology and fear.
“Krile! Sorry! I’m sorry for the… Wh-When I woke up, they were just here again. I don’t… I-I still don’t know how to control it.”
The woman on the bed was the esteemed Warrior of Light, the savior of their star, the one who had gone against despair incarnate and managed to spin hope. Countless battles she had fought. Countless foes, godlike in their strength, had she felled. A veritable beacon of light for Eorzea, their star, and beyond.
But now, Xelruna looked even smaller than even her Lalafellin stature afforded — tired, confused, and battle-scarred. Dressed in a plain hempen gown and her Light-streaked hair unevenly cut from her last battle with Zenos viator Galvus.
The sight of her made Krile’s heart squeeze painfully in her chest, even moreso when she considered what the appearance of the thorns meant. Speaking of… The plantlife seemed to be an unforeseen side effect of Xelruna’s venture into the deepest part of Meteion’s territory.
Based on what I’ve observed and come to learn of this “dynamis”... I can only assume that her being has become suffused with its power. The effect seemed to manifest in plantlife appearing in accordance with Xelruna's emotions, although all she had seen so far were these very thorns. No small wonder, considering the post-traumatic stress she’s been under.
For now, the matter was something Xelruna wanted to keep a secret until she could understand it more, and Krile vowed to remain her confidant. Though to be honest, it was a trial and a half to convince Xelruna’s headstrong mother and an equally stubborn Vatii to keep their visits within the hospital’s hours.
Really, it had been enough of a miracle that nothing had sprouted that first night the Scions had returned. At the time, Xelruna’s room had been flooded with her friends, and even her mother and siblings had sailed in from Thanalan to be at her bedside. Krile could only guess that her emotions were only catching up to her now that the initial noise and distractions had quieted down.
To Xelruna’s frightened expression now, Krile gave a reassuring smile. “Not to worry, not to worry,” she said gently. “We’ll just clean it up like last time. And it looks like none of them scratched you, so no harm done.” As she spoke, she carefully stepped around the vines to reach the bed.
She asked, “Did you have another nightmare?”
Xelruna looked down at her lap. “Yes. It was just…reliving Ultima Thule again. I couldn’t sleep well.” She let out a sigh that sagged her tiny shoulders. “I don’t know what’s wrong. Everything is okay now, the world isn’t ending anymore, so why do I feel so…?”
Krile used the nearby stepladder to climb onto the bed. After settling down beside Xelruna, she reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand — specifically, her left. Her right arm and hand, by contrast, had been in such a terrible state after coming back from Ultima Thule that it had been prepped for surgery and put in a cast at the first opportunity.
Now those bandages were decorated with countless friends’ names — from the Scions to the Ironworks, even some of the Alliance leaders and other friends like Erenville and Ameliance. Krile’s own name was there too.
The sight of all of them written in various colors made Krile’s smile widen to something more genuine.
She spoke, “You’ve shouldered a burden greater than any of us for so long. I’m no psychologist, mind, but… It could be now that there is no imminent danger to fend off, your mind doesn’t know how to handle the peace. And in the silence, you’re finally processing everything that has happened. I’d actually be rather concerned if you were completely okay after what you’ve been through.”
Rather than look at Krile, Xelruna’s gaze seemed fixated to a particularly tangled knot of thorns above the bedframe.
Finally, she asked, “How long do you think it’ll last?”
Krile hummed in consideration. “I think that depends on you. But it helps to have a support system, of course.” She rubbed her friend’s shoulder. “For my part, as your healer and friend, I promise I’ll try everything in my power to get you back on solid ground. Okay?”
Xelruna didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she gave the smallest of smiles and nodded.
“Wonderful. Now lay back a moment and I’ll get rid of these brambles, hmm?”
Luckily, although Krile’s battle experience was not as extensive as her fellow Lalafell, she did have a small repertoire of spells that had served her well when she did go afield. One allowed her to diminish the size of particularly oversized flora, boulders, and fallen logs that would impede her path. It was a spell that came in handy now, and in no time at all, she had gathered all the vines and swept them in a pile at the corner of the room to dispose of later.
“Um. I can take those out later,” Xelruna piped up, nodding to the pile.
Krile’s immediate response was to refuse her and insist that she relax. But clearly, time alone wasn’t doing her any good. Fresh air might actually be better for her.
And so, she nodded. “How about we take it out together? I’ve been disposing of them in the same spot and we’ll pass by the hospital’s lovely courtyard along the way.”
That got her a bigger smile from Xelruna. Success!
Krile straightened up, dusting her hands down her jacket. “Now then, it looks like you have a good amount of strength back. Do you think you’ll be able to disrobe to your smalls and stand here? I want to conduct another examination of your physical body and aether levels to make sure you’re right as rain.”
With a nod, Xelruna slowly crept down the stepladder. She peeled off her sling and began to pull off the hempen gown, having minimal difficulty with her cast. The pair had had many sleepovers together, usually joined by Tataru, and so they were quite comfortable around each other. Without embarrassment, Xelruna placed the gown on the nearby Lalafellin stool and stood in the middle of the room in her smalls.
Krile produced a notepad from her pocket. “I hope you don’t mind if I make some notes. I’ll be passing them along to your chirurgeon since I’m just doing the preliminary examinations.”
“That’s fine. Usually, I’d be happy to make my own notes, but…”
With a small laugh, Krile said, “Healers usually make the worst patients. Thank you for trusting me to help with your treatment. Now then, stretch your left arm out. That’s it. Let’s get started, shall we?”
As she said, Xelruna was a healer; even before learning the art of conjury, she knew that her friend used to work in her mother’s apothecary and knew well how to heal her own injuries and ailments. Indeed, many of her wounds through the years she’d been able to treat on her own, leaving minimal evidence of her battles.
Still… Some were too intense and traumatic on her body to mend on her own, even with spellwork of her caliber.
As Krile examined Xelruna, she couldn’t help but draw her gaze to the scars and wounds etched onto her soft, tan skin. When they had first met, Xelruna had still seemed green around the edges. She’d fought her share of battles, of course, but she hadn’t been marred like this.
From the right side of her collarbone to her left hip was her largest scar, impossible to miss: a precise and thin silver line caused by crossing paths with Zenos back in Rhalgr’s Reach. Krile knew that this scar was seared not only on her flesh, but in Xelruna’s mind. It had imprinted her fear of the Garlean ex-prince to the point of nightmares, ones that Krile had shared for a time and comforted Xelruna through.
After taking some notes on her breathing and flow of aether from her core, Krile moved behind her. Upon Xelruna’s back laid several scars on her shoulder blades, jagged, uneven in shape, but mirrored on each side. When Krile had given her an examination after the Scions had retrieved their souls from the First, Xelruna had given quite the recollection of nearly becoming a sin eater. And at that pivotal moment when Light had choked her breath and overflowed from her body, multiple faelike wings had sprouted from her back, tearing her flesh open.
And then… There was her right hand and arm.
Xelruna had recounted her final battle with Zenos to Krile. She’d told her about the last blow she had delivered with her bare fist. Even putting aside that she was not a physical fighter in the first place, the very last of Xelruna’s strength and soul had gone into that hit. Bone had splintered and cracked, puncturing out from the flesh of her forearm, her fingers breaking upon impact. The injury had required surgery to clean up and set right.
That same arm was now in a cast and sling. Through the initial efforts of all the healing powers of the Scions upon the Ragnarok, Xelruna’s arm could be saved. Though the bone would take time to mend, and the skin would no doubt be covered in rough scars.
Moreover… As of now, it also seemed that Xelruna could not feel anything that touched her right hand. While there was certainly a chance she could regain feeling once she healed up… Krile also prepared for the possibility of telling her she might be numb for the rest of her life.
The thought filled her with guilt, and it wasn’t the first time she felt this way in the last few days.
After making a few more notes, Krile glanced up from her pad. Xelruna had lowered her left arm and stood staring at the floor. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen her friend so withdrawn into herself, but it didn’t make the sight any less painful.
The other times she had seen such a look… Yes, it was when she’d had nightmares about Zenos.
Thinking of that monstrous man again, the guilt festered more in Krile’s heart. With a deep breath, she set her notepad on the stool.
“Xel, I keep meaning to apologize to you. For what I did with sending Zenos after you in Ultima Thule.”
That got Xelruna out of her stupor. She blinked and raised her head to look over at Krile.
Giving what she hoped was an earnest and apologetic look, Krile went on, “I knew how you felt about him. I knew he terrified you. It was a feeling I knew all too well. I mean, how many nights did we spend promising to each other that we wouldn’t allow him to hurt us again?”
She bowed her head. “I knew all of that, and yet I still bargained with him to help you, knowing that he’d clash with you once he found you.”
Krile’s gaze fell to Xelruna’s arm. She’d never forget the stomach-churning horror she’d felt, how the smile had fallen from her lips when she’d seen that peek of bone ripping open bloodied flesh.
“Xel… I am so deeply, truly sorry that I sent him to you. And I’m so, so sorry that because of that, he hurt you like this.” And the reason that you wake up in a canopy of thorns… It’s because… “He’s the one that you’ve been having nightmares of again, isn’t he?”
For the first time, it seemed the fog lifted from Xelruna’s eyes. “He’s not.”
Krile blinked. “Pardon?”
“He’s not the one I’m having nightmares about. Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t been appearing in them at all. Is it okay if I get dressed again?”
“Huh? O-Oh, yes, I’m done. Do you need help?”
“I’ve got it, thank you. I’ll be stuck with this cast for awhile, so I should get used to doing things with just the one arm.”
Only after she was dressed again did Xelruna continue, “You don’t have to apologize, Krile. Rather than anger… When I first saw him appear again and shatter open Meteion’s domain, I was kind of so stupefied that I didn’t know what to think. I’m pretty sure my head broke a little?” She gave a small, disbelieving laugh at the recollection.
“Oh?”
“Mm. Call it exhaustion from all the fighting, call it me being crazy,” Xelruna considered, “or maybe even call it finally facing my fears. But I wanted it to be over. I wanted the nightmare to be over. Obviously, no matter what I did or where I went… He’d find me. He’d threaten all that I loved.” Her voice grew quieter at the admissions.
“After he took over my body in Garlemald, I thought, he really will stop at nothing. He’ll just keep coming back until he gets what he wants. He’ll just steal more and more of me. And I guess at that moment, I realized: I’d had enough.” A pause. Then, another dry laugh. A single one that bubbled into full laughter. “That’s actually what I told him, you know: that I’d had enough of him. I said that! Hahaha!”
Krile slowly processed Xelruna’s words. She’d been prepared for… Well, perhaps not anger, but for her apology to unintentionally hurt her friend, to force her to become more withdrawn. She’d expected tears or more thorns to sprout. Even if Xelruna had tried to bury her feelings, the dynamis wouldn’t have been able to lie for her.
Instead, she was laughing.
“So what you’re saying is… Um, what are you saying?”
Xelruna offered Krile a smile — a tired one, but a friendly one nonetheless. “What I said before: it’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. You gave me the opportunity to finally face Zenos and gain a sense of courage I hadn’t had before. I thought of who I loved most, and it was like I gained the strength to finally push back. As if we were fighting as one." Warmth filled her eyes, and it was a look Krile knew well: one that indicated that Xelruna was thinking of Vatii.
"I thought to be that courageous, it meant I had to be afraid of nothing. Now I know that it means going on despite being afraid.”
Krile was stunned. Stunned… And very proud.
She really has gone through all seven hells and survived.
“I’ll take you at your word. And for what it’s worth… You’re the last person that I would say has a lack of courage, even during times when you’ve been plagued by fear.” Krile’s voice was quiet as she said the words, but they nonetheless contained her most heartfelt feelings. She could only pray that Xelruna believed in them and would accept this show of faith in an otherwise confusing and stressful time.
The Final Days had been averted, but there was still much work to do for real peace, both within them and out in the world. For that to happen, they all needed each other.
The unique shine of Xelruna’s Dunesfolk eyes shimmered brighter as tears began to well up. Still, it did not seem that these were tears of sadness. She seemed genuinely surprised, as if she never considered that she had courage with her all along.
A smile finally drew on her lips. “Thank you, Krile.”
“Anytime. Would you like to take a walk out into the courtyard now? There’s plenty of winter-thriving flora that they plant around this time of year. Oh, speaking of which, it’s still quite chilly outside, so I’d advise you to take a jacket with you.”
Xelruna gave a small laugh. “Both Mother and Tataru left me with plenty. Um…” She glanced at her cast, thinking. “I don’t know how I’ll put it on, to be honest.” She looked up almost sheepishly. “Would you help me?”
Rely on us. We’ll get through this uncertainty like so many other times. Even if you’re afraid, we’ll help you move your feet forward one day at a time.
And one day, it’ll all be just scars and stories etched upon us — not necessarily whole, but healed.
Krile smiled, wide and bright. “Naturally!”
As Xelruna sifted through the clothes folded neatly within the nearby Lalafell-sized dresser, she said, "And Krile... I think... I think today I also want to talk about what's happening to me — with the thorns, the dynamis... I don't know how to explain it to my family yet, but... I want to tell some of our friends, and I want to tell Vatii. Will you...help me with that, too?"
Warmth bloomed in Krile's chest.
"Yes. I think that sounds like a fine idea."