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Kiah’a laid his head down to rest, though he knew sleep would be hard to come by. He stared up at the ceiling of the Bokairo Inn hoping in vain that he could relax enough. There was the faint sound of running water from the nearby hot springs and someone in the room over had a terrible cough. Other than that, the city was quiet. His mind, however, was anything but.
He kept fiddling with his linkpearl. By his estimation, it was still the middle of the day in Ishgard. What was Sidurgu doing? Kiah’a had left him — and by extension, Rielle — with a fair amount of gil and a written pardon from the Lord Speaker. Asking the man for a favor had made Kiah’a’s skin crawl, but Kiah’a had lost an arm saving the city. Aymeric owed him.
Together, it meant Sidurgu no longer had to hunt for scraps or take odd, dangerous jobs to earn enough coin for dinner. Rielle, too, was not being hunted anymore. She was as safe as anyone could be in a city like Ishgard. So surely Sidurgu could not be doing anything so serious that he could not speak to Kiah’a, if but for a moment.
He gave you the linkpearl for a reason, Kiah’a recalled. It had felt like such a small, delicate gift, but that was how Kiah’a felt about most things with Sidurgu. The man was a towering pillar of strength, augmented with steel and abyssal magic, but their relationship was… Well, not new anymore. But Kiah’a hesitated to assign any specific weight to it. Like if he gave a name to it, it would disappear in the wind.
“For fuck’s sake,” Kiah’a muttered, sitting up and tapping on his linkpearl. His heart beat in time with the ring. A sinking sensation grew in his chest as his call remained unanswered. There were dozens of situations where Sidurgu couldn’t answer. He could be talking to someone. He could be eating. Hells, he could be on the privy and loathe to speak with someone while doing so. It didn’t mean that he hated—
“Hello?” Sidurgu answered. Kiah’a let out a soft sigh. The pit in his chest was replaced with a tight feeling. He could feel an ache in his bones. “Kiah’a, is aught amiss?”
Kiah’a curled in on himself, his knees tucked close to his chest and his tail wrapped around himself. “No, I’m fine. Is now a bad time?”
“Not at all. Rielle, stay here.” Sidurgu stood. Kiah’a could hear the creak of his armor and a door open and close. “How has your journey been?”
“Fine. We arrived today.” Kiah’a took a deep breath. What should he share? What was excessive versus necessary? “We encountered phantoms in the Sirensong Sea. No one died, but ‘twas a harrowing experience.”
“Your new magic is serving you well, then?”
Kiah’a hesitated. He still had a long way to go with a tome, and learning the arcane arts of the summoner and the scholar at the same time was not the easiest route, but he had been able to defend himself and help defeat the monstrosities. He missed swinging a lance or greatsword, but at least he was not useless.
“‘twas fine. We all lived.” And that was what mattered, right? No one cared if he was comfortable, only that he got the job done.
He realized, belatedly, that he should go into more detail. That Sidurgu had a vested interest in his combat experience. But the moment was gone and Kiah’a couldn’t think of a way to bring it back again, so he remained silent. Sidurgu cleared his throat.
“What is Kugane like?” Sidurgu had an even tone. Kiah’a bit his lip to stop himself from asking if he was boring him. Surely Sidurgu would say something if he didn’t want to talk, if this was some burden.
“Big, and bright. You can smell the sea wherever you go.” Kiah'a fidgeted with a loose thread on the hem of his pants. “The cuisine is very dependent on fish. ‘tis unusual, but enjoyable enough.”
Sidurgu didn't reply at first. In the seconds that passed, Kiah'a’s pulse quickened. He wondered if this was a mistake. Perhaps Sidurgu regretted giving him the linkpearl, or had assumed he would not use it. Kiah'a was poor enough company in person. He could not be any better across the sea.
“Are you enjoying the city?” Sidurgu finally asked. He sounded normal, but Kiah'a wished to see his face. ‘twas a challenge above all others, trying to follow the tone of the conversation without a guide.
“It's fine.” Kiah'a cleared his throat. “How are you and Rielle?”
“Fine. I think she doesn't know what to do, not having her mother’s dogs hounding her steps.” Sidurgu paused. Kiah'a let him formulate his thoughts. It was one of the things he liked about the man. He knew the weight his words carried with Kiah'a and, in turn, measured them slowly.
On the other hand, Kiah’a’s worries liked to compound with every moment of silence that stretched between them. Balancing the two was a delicate task.
“I think, often, that I could do more with you than here,” Sidurgu said softly.
Kiah'a's heart ached. His hand slid up his head and tugged on his ear. The sharp pain helped remind him where he was.
“Ishgard still needs you. I trust Aymeric more than most politicians, but he's still a politician.”
Sidurgu hummed in agreement. “Aye, you speak true on that. Make no mistake — full glad am I to continue protecting those who need it most. ‘tis just been quiet, of late.” Sidurgu laughed softly, a deep rumble that Kiah'a could feel in his bones. It made his heart ache. “Imagine, a day where I complain of having not enough work to do. Fray would never let me hear the end of it.”
“Mayhap you can join me on my next journey, wherever that is.” Kiah'a must have said something wrong, because Sidurgu did not respond for a long while. He forced himself to remain silent. Nothing could be made better by an outpouring of words.
“You plan on continuing your travels, then,” Sidurgu said.
Kiah'a sighed. He pushed his nose into the groove formed between where his knees were pressed together.
“I imagine I shall go wherever the Scions ask me. We cannot stop until Garlemald’s aggression ceases and all enslaved peoples are free.” He almost believed himself.
“You told me that you were sick of being the sword of the Scions.” Sidurgu managed to make it sound like a statement rather than an accusation, but it still stung nonetheless. “Has that changed?”
Kiah’a felt his tail wrap around his ankle. At times like this, his chest ached. It felt like he was being stabbed again and again. He’d rather rip his heart out. Yet, somehow, he endured.
“They need me. And turning a blind eye to the injustices of the world makes me no better than those perpetuating the crimes.” Kiah’a sighed. He swallowed down his doubt. “But I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” Sidurgu assured him. “Rielle does as well. ‘tis quiet without you.”
Kiah’a laughed at that. “I thought you liked when it was quiet.”
“Not like this.” Sidurgu’s confession weighed heavily on Kiah’a’s mind.
He could teleport back to Ishgard for a few hours, then return to Kugane with no one the wiser. His aether was strong enough that such a trip would not be too risky.
Except if something happened in Kugane and he was not there, he’d never forgive himself.
“You’d like it here,” Kiah’a started and then stopped. Sidurgu made a vague noise in the back of his throat, a low rumble that barely made it through the linkpearl. “Mayhap you and Rielle can visit when there is time.”
“She’s never left the city. I’ll ask her. Do you wish to talk to her?”
Kiah’a did, but the longer the conversation went the more he felt like an open scab. “I should go, actually. Next time, though.”
“Okay.” Sidurgu didn’t push him.
“Tell her I said hello,” Kiah’a offered.
“I will.”
Kiah’a laid back. The pillow melted around his head. There was a knot in one of the beams holding up the ceiling. It was a big, noticeable bump in the otherwise smooth wooden paneling.
“Have a good night,” he said.
“You too,” Sidurgu replied. Neither of them hung up.
Kiah’a felt numb. There was so much he wanted to say, but his throat wouldn’t work. His tongue felt like lead. This was easier in person when he could lean against Sidurgu or entwine their tails or just look at him. Sidurgu always understood what Kiah’a’s gaze meant, even when Kiah’a was uncertain.
When Kiah’a was on bedrest and recovering from his final fight with Nidhogg, Sidurgu had visited. Kiah’a had asked him to stay. He could not do that now.
Kiah’a went to pull the blanket up, then realized he was trying to use his missing arm. He didn’t do that very often anymore. He was starting to get used to being down an arm.
Most days, it didn’t even hurt.
“Thank you for calling,” Sidurgu murmured, shattering the silence. “I enjoy hearing from you.”
It struck Kiah’a that he had failed to speak with Sidurgu for the entirety of the boat ride to Kugane.
His hand clenched the blankets tight.
“I’ll do better,” he croaked. It felt woefully inadequate. “I’ll call whenever I can.”
“... Thank you.” Sidurgu sniffed and then cleared his throat again. “I will let you rest. Know that you are always in my thoughts.”
Sidurgu ended the call before Kiah’a could reply. Frustration bubbled inside. It wrenched its way out of his chest, drowning out any other emotion. Kiah’a tore the linkpearl from his ear and tossed it aside. It slammed into the wall then fell to the ground with a clatter. A surge of panic hit Kiah’a. He leapt out of bed, scrambling to grab the linkpearl before it was lost.
Thankfully it was still in one piece, not even chipped. Kiah’a held it close, cradling it against his chest. His eyes were squeezed shut. They stung slightly. He tried to ignore it.
The pit in his chest was back.
He crawled back into bed, curling up underneath the sheets. Kugane was hot compared to Ishgard but Kiah’a had never felt so cold.