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Twilight over the salt lakes

Summary:

At the eve of the Liberation of Ala Mhigo, the Warrior of Light takes a moment to be by himself, overwhelmed by anxiety. He'll find unexpected support in talking with a friend.

Notes:

This short story was born from a FFXIVwrite prompt that got out of hand.
Through a flashback set during FFXIV 1.0, I wanted to introduce a character from Wilan's past who doesn't get to play much of a part in current day events, but whose relationship with him nonetheless shaped who he is.

Work Text:

“Ah, so that’s where you were.”
The Warrior of Light stiffened at the voice, but he did not turn to meet it. He stood there, leaning on a parapet, gazing distantly at the Royal Palace of Ala Mhigo bathed in the golden reds of sunset. He had recognized it anyway, he had been friends with Thancred for way too many years to mistake him for anybody else.
“You made yourself scarce the moment the war council had concluded. What, were you that bored?” He poked at him, as he approached him on the ledge.
Wilan kept staring at the palace for a long moment. Then he exhaled, smiling bitterly. “Yeah, bored out of my mind, not like we were planning one of the biggest military operations in recent history. I figured I’d come out here to get a breath of fresh air, stretch my legs, you know. Enjoy the view.”
“Yeah, it’s not like we care.” Thancred remarked sarcastically, leaning his back on the parapet right next to him and propping both elbows up. “Sucks to be the guy this whole operation will revolve around, though.”
’And then the Warrior of Light will spearhead an attack straight to the Throne Room’.” Wilan parrotted Raubahn in a mock voice, sizzling bitterness in his voice. “For crying out loud, most of the times they don’t even bother to call me by name.”
“That would imply accepting that you’re just human. We can’t have that.”

A corner of Wilan’s mouth curled bitterly at his remark. “Makes sense I guess. They intend to throw me at the Emperor’s son, and that man definitely isn’t human.”
“What, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a chump like Zenos Yae Galvus?” Thancred commented, but Wilan could tell that the sarcasm in his voice wasn’t directed at him.
“Third time’s the charm, I guess.” He answered, in a voice that didn’t quite inspire confidence.
It wasn’t like him to be this dejected, in fact ever since the previous summer he had stopped showing any kind of weakness at all, to anybody. Too many eyes were on him, at all times, all gazing up at the shining weapon of light brandished by the allied countries of Eorzea, a list that now counted nations well outside the Realm itself thanks to his involvement in the deposition of Doma’s Imperial viceroy.
But somebody important to him had begged him to be himself at least with his friends and closest allies. To show them weakness and vulnerability, and trust them to have his back. He would rather not do it, but he decided he was going to trust her judgment on that.
A memory flashed through his mind. Worried amber eyes staring into his, ardently wishing for his safe return home. He blinked the memory out of his sight, and trained his gaze on the royal palace once again. He wasn’t sure if he was going to survive the day, and given how bad his previous encounters with the viceroy went, things were looking grim. This of course was nothing new, but he had always made it a point to never tangle his life with anybody else, to not have anyone waiting back home praying the Twelve he wouldn’t die in battle.
Those worried eyes pierced the cloud of his anxieties and found his gaze again. And a malicious whisper born from his own guilty conscience rang in his ears.
Why did you do this to her?

“So, well, last day before probable death. What else is new?” Thancred’s voice came after a long moment of silence. He wasn’t trying to add his own worries but it was clear he was scared as well. The shared tension was somehow comforting. “Makes you want to spend the night indulging in vice and passion, since it might be your last chance.”
Wilan chuckled. Of course at a moment like this he’d be thinking about women.
Then again, he considered a moment later, so was he.
“Hey, don’t knock it. Look, I know you’re not good with the ladies, but I can be your wingman. I’m sure there’s plenty of pretty rebel girls who are looking to make the most of the night before the battle as much as we are.”
“Thanks, that’s a very considerate thought.” Wilan replied, for the first time genuinely amused. “But I think I’m gonna pass.”
“Thancred looked sidelong at him, then with a smirk crossed his arms, looking up at the red sky. “Right, of course. Wouldn’t want to be unfaithful to your girlfriend.”
Wilan stiffened at his less than innocuous remark.
“Hm, it’s been a while though, I didn’t think you’d still be seeing her.”
Well, it hasn’t been that long, he thought, a few months at most maybe, but he’d been busy liberating two imperial colonies, it’s not likeー
“What was her name again? Nancy? Nessie?”

It was only after a long moment of silence, as the weight of what Thancred was referring to hit him in the bowels, that he simply said:
“Nessa.”

It was a different time.

A simpler time.

Wilan awkwardly shuffled his weight while waiting next to a table, while busy people paced back and forth around him. Some were clerks and bureaucrats carrying documents and paperwork. Others were adventurers, walking in pairs, discussing the details of their next outing.
In the noisy chatter of that room, buried in the suffocating Ul’dan architecture, the young adventurer was thoroughly lost in thought. He was mulling over the conversation he had recently had with Minfilia Warde, the acting Antecedent of the Path of the Twelve. A secret organization of sort that, if she was to be believed, was tasked by an enlightened man from Sharlayan with finding and gathering individual possessed of a peculiar set of powers. Powers that he had manifested, some months prior. The Echo, she had called it. Nobody quite knows what causes these powers to awaken in people, but she suspects it to be a blessing, divine in nature.

As to why the... “blessed” individuals such as himself were being gathered, she was rather vaguer. She held the belief that this Echo had been granted for a reason, and she won’t see such a gift go to waste in indolence. She would make use of it to... “better the world”, in her own words. “Bring peace to Eorzea”.
A tall order, to be sure. Yet she managed to sell him her dream, and have him agree to aid their cause.

But now, as he found himself waiting while the proper paperwork gets filed and archived, and a companion is selected to form a traveling pair with him, he found himself having second thoughts. Had he been too hasty? In truth he knows nothing about this woman, and he’s been guilty of trusting people too easily in the past. And what of this man from Sharlayan pulling the strings on this entire operation?
He had to wonder: had he just signed away his freedom as an adventurer, to become a foot soldier in the political game of this Leveilleur?  

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. This is to be my partner?”

The outraged voice of a woman who had just entered the room jolted him out of his thoughts. One look at her, and Wilan could tell she came from money. An expensive armor, an arrogant demeanour, and a grace in her movements apparent even in her outburst. She approached him, looking at him as if watching a decomposing carcass at the side of the road, making no effort to conceal her disdain.
“What, you expect this simpleton to accompany me? That’s out of the question, I’d rather go alone.”
“Miss Corallen, please!” hurried after her a lalafellin girl. Wilan had met her earlier as they went through his own paperwork. Tataru, he seemed to recall she was called.
“As we’ve explained before, should you agree to be part of our cause you will be expected to work in pairs.” The lalafellin girl explained, waving her little arms for emphasis. “People with your gift are rare enough, we can’t risk you venturing on missions alone, and as you already know all our other members are already paired.” She turned her head at him, and for a moment Wilan caught in her expression a quiet apology for the way he had been addressed. “This is Wilan. He’s the first person we’ve recruited in a while, and he’s a swordsman like you are. We figured you two would make a good pair of Path Companions for our combat-focused missions. Wilan, allow me to introduce Nessa, she’s an Ul’dan―”
“Bloody hells woman, look at this guy!” Nessa cut in, interrupting her. “What is he, a farmer!? How do you expect me to work with such an unrefined, uncouth, boorish dimwit?”

However annoyed by the young woman’s delightful attitude, Wilan made it a point not to respond to her provocations. He leaned back on the table, relaxing his muscles, and lifted hit chin as he listened to her. “That’s a lot of fancy words, one after the other too. Your home tutor must be proud.” He replied calmly, his face appearing disinterested, his voice flat and his delivery dry. He had dealt with more than enough self-important arseholes in his career as an adventurer to know better than to fuel the fire.
Sure enough, Nessa gritted her teeth and clenched her fists while staring daggers at him, but had otherwise lost her momentum.

Tataru jumped at the occasion to interject. “Miss Corallen, need I remind you that you’ve been waiting to join our operations on the field for a little over four moons now?” The hyuran woman averted her eyes in frustration. “And I also remember that in out interview you said you wanted nothing more than to prove your worth by being part of something greater. If this arrangement truly doesn’t suit you we can cancel the whole thing, but only the Spinner knows when another chance will present itself.”

“Gods damn it.” Nessa muttered under her breath. “Fine. If this is the best your organization has to offer, it’ll have to do. But mark my word, you bonehead.” Again she looked straight into his eyes confrontationally, poking his chest with her finger. “You’ll better stay out of my way and leave the talking to me. We’ll be representing the Path of the Twelve on the field, and by extension lord Leveilleur himself, one of the most important personalities of Sharlayan. Not that somebody like you would know about such things. I’m not going to let an uneducated brute like you make me pass for a failure in his eyes.”

Wilan sustained her gaze, silent rebellion in his eyes. But then, with a sigh, he looked away in a gesture of acquiescence. His expression betrayed his annoyance at the woman, but he bit it all down and simply replied:
“Aye.”

“Oh yeah, that’s the one.” Thancred said, crossing his arms and tilting his chin, as if recalling memories. “She always looked at you as if you smelled like rotting fish, that one. To this day I’m not sure how you two ended up being involved.
A corner of Wilan’s mouth twitched, as a memory flashed through his mind. Of a field scorched with fire in the depths of Zahar’ak, dimly lit by the feeble light of an eclipse. Of a child, his skin scorched, his clothes burned, his hair singed, but still alive. Of his weak voice, calling out for Lord Ifrit’s salvation. Of a shared grief that no words could adequately convey. Of their hands, joined together tight around the hilt of the same sword, trying to find in each other the strength to do what needed to be done. Of tears.
“You know...” he replied, his voice husky all of a sudden, his eyes not meeting Thancred’s. “Traveling together, we ended up putting our differences aside.”

Thancred considered what he said and, more importantly, what he didn’t say, and didn’t push the matter further. “But what happened then? I remember you two worked together for a few years, and even joined us in that skirmish against Van Baelsar. And then all of a sudden I never saw you together again.”
“Oh. That would be when Louisoix took notice of me and chose me to be his right arm on the field.” He looked out in the distance, a sad smile touching his cheeks. “She never forgave me for that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nessa had... a lot to prove. To her father mostly, but to herself as well. She was the last daughter of an influential Ul’dan family, and all of her siblings had moved on to become important in life. She saw our organization as a way to get in the good graces of Louisoix.”
Thancred grimaced. “When you put it that way, yeah, I can’t imagine how she could have possibly taken it well.”
“Would you believe that over the years she had even gotten over that? Eventually she started going out on missions just for the love of being of some help to the people of Eorzea, she had found her own purpose in life that went beyond the expectations of her family. But me being selected to the position she once aspired too was too hard to ignore.”

They looked out in the distance as silence stretched for a few moments. Thancred broke it first. “What happened to her, anyway?”
Wilan took a deep breath before answering. “Well... during the Calamity...”
“Oh.” Thancred interrupted. “Did she die back then?”
“No, actually not.” Wilan reassured him, but the sad smile was still on his lips. “She stayed behind in Ul’dah to protect its streets from the hordes of frenzied monsters, while I accompanied Louisoix to the frontlines of the Battle of Cartenau Flats.”
Thancred nodded. “I also had instructions to remain in Ul’dah, coordinating with others to offer a steady stream of prayers to the stones of the Twelve. I cannot even begin to imagine what that battle must have been like.”
Wilan didn’t answer right away. His eyes unfocused for a moment, until he blinked away the traumatic memories of the battlefield from his mind. “When everything seemed lost he... Well I’m still not sure what he did exactly, but he invoked the power of Althyk to carry me forward in time.”
“Ah. Back when everyone forgot who you were.”
“Mh. An unfortunate side effect of the magic that saved my life, luckily it turned out to be just a temporary inconvenience. Either way, shortly after returning to the world I tried to make contact with Minfilia once again. And when I managed to track her down to the new base in Vesper Bay, I met Nessa again, in the corridors of the Waking Sands.”

Thancred listened with concerned interest, not daring to interrupt his friend now that he had finally eased him into sharing a little more about himself, for once.
“I was so happy to see she was alright.” Wilan continued, smiling melancholically. “I ran to her, our past dramas be damned, I hugged her and told her I was glad to see her again.”
“And what, was she still mad at you despite everything?”
“Heh. I wish. What she said was even more disheartening.” He lifted his chin, and spoke imitating her voice. “Unhand me you wretched bumpkin! I don’t know what possessed you to tackle me that way, but if you think a lowborn like you could associate to the likes of me you need to lay off the bottle.
“Oof. As lovely as the first day you met her.” commented Thancred, trying to bring some levity to the narration. “Makes sense that she would forget you like the rest of us, but I can imagine why it’d break your heart to hear that. Did she come around when she eventually remembered you?”
It was a long moment before Wilan answered. “She never did.”
“Oh c’mon, everyone remembered you in the end. The effect was temporary, you said so yourself.”
“Yeah. Eventually. But she...” He puffed out some air, not sure how to explain it.

“Livia’s raid.” he simply uttered in the end, his voice hoarse.
“Ah, shit.” Thancred commented, immediately understanding what he meant. “Was she there when it happened?”
“I... carried her lifeless body outside myself. In my arms.” He tried adding more to the story, but his throat felt dry all of a sudden.
“Fuck, Wilan, I... I didn’t know.” Thancred apologized, his voice a lot more serious than usual. “I’m sorry for making you dredge up these memories.”
“It’s okay.” Wilan answered, not quite looking at him, and he meant it. “You know, I... never spoke of it with anyone now that I think about it. I never realized how much I needed to.”
Thancred didn’t miss the gratitude in his voice. He smiled and kept quiet, giving his friend time to process his feeling.
“It’s... old wounds, anyway.” He continued. “The feelings between us had been cold for years already after all, and I’ve buried more people close to me since then.” He looked into the distance, smiled sadly again, and once again repeated: “It’s okay.”

“Well...” Thancred said tentatively after a minute of silence. “Since it’s been so long, how come you’ve never got together with anyone else then? I mean you’re got the charms, you’ve got the looks, and you have that heroic aura that girls swoon at.”
Wilan scoffed. “Swoon?”
“Yeah. You can literally take your pick, so why no one? Are your standards that high? Or is it that you’re not really over Nessa yet?”
The question was delivered with Thancred’s usual nonchalance, but Wilan could hear the concern in his voice. “No, that’s not it. I have different reasons. And I suspect they’re the same as yours.”
“Oh please, you must be mistaken. I’m quite successful with the fair sex, you know.”
“But that’s the point, isn’t it? You entertain the company of so many girls, and yet you never... bond with any of them, you never push things too far, you cut things off or sabotage yourself long before feelings can develop. A superficial and transitory intimacy, forgotten at dawn.”
Thancred listened to his friend’s insight, somewhat surprised to discover him capable of that kind of observation.
“Because those like us live a dangerous life.” Wilan continued, glancing away into the distance “We can’t afford to do something so unfair to anyone as to falling in love with them, knowing we risk our life out here on a regular basis.”
A long silence stretched between them, as the both of them stared at the royal palace in the distance, a looming shadow of the next mortal danger they’re both scheduled to face.  

“The werlytian must be really special, then.”

The moment the words broke the silence Wilan went as still as stone, and despite the sudden turmoil in his chest, as his mind raced to go over their entire conversation, looking for a mistake, a slip-up, anything that could have betrayed his secret, his face was completely inexpressive.
He had so little of a reaction, in fact, that Thancred couldn’t help but chuckle. “Wilan, I can almost hear you not blinking.”
He turned to look at him, his eyes slightly too wide, his throat dry. Of course, he thought. Thancred was the Scion’s spy. Like him, he was specifically hand-picked by Louisoix, but his role was to gather enemy intelligence rather than fighting in the frontlines. Of course. He had feigned ignorance to gain his trust, to lower his guard. But he already knew. Of course he did.

“Was I that obvious...?” Wilan all but whispered, unable to completely hide the terror from his trembling voice. “I thought I had been so careful...”
“I’ll admit, I had my doubts.” Thancred replied with a reassuring smile, and then tilted his chin to add “Which you just kindly confirmed.”
A quiet breath escaped Wilan’s quivering lips. He clasped his head in both hands, anxiety overwhelming him. “Please... Gods, please don’t tell anyone.” He pleaded.
At that display, Thancred grew serious and stepped closer to him, patting his back. “Wilan, you’re my friend, your secret is safe with me.” He stated, loud and clear. “But I want you to know, it doesn’t have to be a secret at all. You’re among friends, and I can assure you the others would only be happy for you. Like I am.” He punctuated the sentiment by squeezing his shoulder.

The words calmed Wilan down somewhat. “Thancred...” he tries to say, but his tongue feels twisted. He takes a deep breath, tries to steady his nerves, and tries again. “I may be among friends, but have you noticed how much longer the list of my enemies has become, as of late?” He makes an effort to look at him again in the eyes. “Look, I know the risks. I signed up for this. And I can look out for myself. But what if some of my enemies wanted to target her? To hold her as hostage, to leverage something out of me. Or maybe just to kill her, just to wrong me or to take revenge.” He shook his head, and took another steadying breath. “She’s not a fighter, she’s not involved in this war, hells she tried to get as far away from the Empire as she could.” He looked away, as a deep sadness fell over his face. “I cannot do this to her.” he all but whispered.
“The less people know about her, the better.”

Thancred listened carefully, and with a nod and one more squeeze of his shoulder, reassured him. “If that’s what you wish my friend, so be it. I can keep secrets as well as I can uncover them.” He smiles, and his voice grows subtly lighter. “Which is a compliment I had no idea I could extend to you. You know, I sensed there might be something between you two a couple years ago, but when I tried to poke you for information back then you had be fooled.
Wilan scoffed, a touch of tenderness touching his eyes despite his best efforts to hide it. “I think what happened is that you figured it out sooner than I did. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing at all going on until after I returned from Ishgard. And then it... it all sort of happened.”
“Sort of?” Thancred inquired.
Wilan nodded. “Against my better judgement. I know I shouldn’t have allowed it, I know I shouldn’t get involved with anyone, I know the risks of the role I’m called to play.”
“But you did it anyway?”
It took a few moments for Wilan to answer, and when he did there was a measure of shame in his voice. “It’s that... it had been so long since I last allowed myself to... to feel affection, and to receive affection. To feel comfort in intimacy. And when that comfort was offered to me I... I couldn’t find the strength turn it down.” He lowered his eyes, unable to keep looking at his friend in the eyes as he explains what he considers to be his weakness. “Even if I shouldn’t have, I accepted her love, however briefly, and I gave her mine in return. And now, increasingly often, I see her eyes looking at me from the depth of my thoughts. Those eyes who love me, who don’t want me to take any unnecessary risk, who are waiting for me to come back home.”

“Well...” Thancred finally offers, a long moment later. “Seems to me like all the more reason to survive, don’t you think?”

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