Chapter Text
The months that her friends had spent in the First were nothing short of exhausting for Krile. Sure, they may have been off saving yet another world from demise, but they had left their own in no less a state of disarray. With the ever-present threat of the Empire constantly looming at their borders, along with the haunting knowledge of the Black Rose and what it could do, it was a wonder that any of the remaining Scions still had enough courage to fight at all. At least they had Estinien to help on that front- Tataru always somehow seemed to know both how to find him, and exactly what to say to convince him to do what was needed.
Yet even as a lone dragoon ventured to stop the machinations of an entire nation, the burdens that had been placed on Krile herself felt even more heavy. Week after week spent tending to the still bodies of her closest friends, with only the infrequent visits of the Warrior to give her any semblance of what was happening across the rift (and the occasional sight of a strange fairy in her dreams)… As the time had gone on, and the Scions’ aether had seemed to grow thinner, her sleep had gotten worse and worse, to the point where Tataru had to force her to go to rest on many an occasion.
But now, perhaps… finally… this could all be over. Krile was currently stood in the main room of the Rising Stones, nervously tapping one foot against the floor as her hands fretted with the folds of her coat. Perhaps Tataru said something from where she was stood beside her, but Krile’s mind was buzzing far too loud to register the sound, let alone comprehend the words.
It was the sound of the door that she heard first, followed by the steady footsteps that she knew all too well. Krile turned her head towards the door… And there they were.
The last few times that the Warrior had returned to the Source, they’d seemed… haggard. They’d been rather tight-lipped about whatever “light sickness” had been afflicting them, but even after that had been seemingly resolved, they still carried a haunted look on their face. Exhaustion, pain, and a weight seemingly too large for any other to bear. Yet now?
Krile couldn’t have been more happy to see the familiar face of her friend as they entered the room. For the first time since Thancred had collapsed what seemed like forever ago, the Warrior of Light was smiling.
The spirit vessels were an elegant thing, so small, yet with such an intricate design and a fascinating flow of aether… Were the situation any less crucial, Krile would have liked to stop and examine the devices a little more- but no, this was what they had been waiting for all this time. It took no time at all for the vessels to be distributed around the room, the Warrior quietly placing each soul beside its owner, and then there was naught to do but wait. Krile hadn’t even realised that she’d taken Tataru’s hand in her own until she felt the other woman squeeze it gently, and she was glad for the comfort in that moment.
Silence filled the room. It felt like none of them even dared to breathe. But then…
A faint glow shone from a bed. Then another… and another, until the room was bathed in a brilliant blue light. And as the light faded…
“Did it… are we…?”
Gods, Krile felt like she could have wept at the sound of Alisaie’s voice, as the elezen girl rose, followed by another Scion, and then another, until all of the slumbering bodies seemed to have stirred.
“It’s over...” Krile whispered, squeezing Tataru’s hand even tighter, and a laugh from beside her made her look up at the smiling face of the other woman.
“We did it!” she squealed, wrapping her arms tightly around Krile, before releasing her and buzzing around to their slowly waking comrades, bombarding them with questions even now.
The noise grew until it was a deafening hum in Krile’s ears, and she stood, still, silent. Gentle tears rolling down her cheeks and a soft smile on her face. She stayed there for a few moments, unmoving, until the familiar pulse of the Echo ran through her.
Confusion.
The strong wave of emotion hit her, and Krile snapped back to reality. What was-
“What? But you’ve just got here?”
Tataru was watching in surprise and indignation as the Warrior strode out of the room, leaving the Rising Stones just as quickly as they had entered. Was the situation really so dire that they had to leave so suddenly?
But before Krile could even begin to figure out what was going on, a light chuckle came from behind her.
“Tataru,” Alphinaud started, his voice warm even through the cracked haze of his long slumber. “Might I trouble you to brew us all a pot of your special tea?” Krile’s gaze turned to face him fully, and there was a twinkle in his eye as he added, “Ah! And we may require an extra cup.”
An extra…? But all of the Scions were here. Estinien wouldn’t be back for another week or so, he’d said as much, so who…?
A thought came to her. A hope. A fruitless one, perhaps. But the Exarch had left the key for the Warrior in the Syrcus Trench… Surely it couldn’t be…
Without a word to the others, Krile turned towards the door, and ran.
It was so like him to offer himself up without a second thought, to throw himself into the line of fire to save others. Many would call the act selfless, some perhaps heroic, but Krile knew better. Whether he didn’t want to bring himself to think of it, or whether he truly was oblivious, it mattered little. He willingly placed himself in danger without a second thought for what those he left behind might feel.
G’raha Tia really was a selfish man.
When the two of them had said their goodbyes on the Isle of Val, as he had headed off for grander, more exciting lands, Krile didn’t cry. They would no doubt see each other again before long, and this kind of journey was one he’d dreamed of since the two of them were children.
The day that she learned he had been sealed in the tower, Krile didn’t cry. It had been a long time since the two of them had parted last after all, and besides, it was Raha. He could take care of himself. No doubt he’d change his mind and be out within a few weeks, off on some other wild adventure. No, despite the strange panging in her chest, Krile did not cry.
But on that fateful day, the day the Warrior of Light emerged alive and well from the First, the day the Scions of the Seventh Dawn proclaimed their victory against yet another Calamity, the day that she had followed the hero of both this world and another across the wastes of Mor Dhona, and found…
He’d barely been conscious as the seal had been lifted, carried out of the crystalline prison in the Warrior’s arms. As much as Krile wanted to run to him, to demand to see him, she instead numbly nodded as the Warrior told her that he needed rest. And as G’raha was laid to rest in the heart of the Rising Stones, the Warrior had sat her and Tataru down, and they told the two lalafell of all that had happened since their departure long ago.
Tataru had sat enraptured, asking question after question about Ardbert, about Emet-selch, about the Exarch…
The Exarch.
It still hardly seemed real, like a hallucination in Krile’s mind as she thought of the picture that the Warrior’s words had weaved of their adventures. Her Raha… He had lived more than a lifetime by himself, a century of isolation.
And she hadn’t even bid him goodbye.
Krile sat numbly until the Warrior left, had returned to her friends, to the long-overdue celebration of all the strength and bravery that the Scions had shown in their- for many- years long stay away from home. But as the night grew long, as one friend after another bid her goodnight, Krile made her own farewells and retreated to her chamber.
And this time, Krile wept.
She wept for the boy he had once been, she mourned the life that he would now never- that he had never had a chance to live…
And she cried tears of relief. Tears of joy. Because despite it all, he was still alive, still able to come back to them.
Still able to come back to her.
In the weeks that followed the defeat of Elidibus and the return of the Scions, there was always much to be done. Everyone was busy, far too busy to spend time sat idly chatting...
She’d seen him around the Rising Stones, that much was true, but neither of them had the luxury of being able to stop and truly talk. She knew it was necessary deep down, but it did not stop the irritation that stung at her. Did not stop the strange clenching in her chest. He managed to time the find to run this way and that, from Ishgard all the way to bloody Azys Lla, at the beck and call of his comrades. His friends.
Yet all that she had received since his return was little more than a soft smile, and a murmured phrase. “’tis good to see you well, Krile.”
…But no matter what she thought of him, she would be a hypocrite to think him foolish. For those words were all that was needed for her to forgive him.
Krile awoke with a yawn, slowly blinking herself awake before pushing herself up and out of bed. The sun had just begun to crest the horizon, and her room was filled with both the early morning light and the sound of chirping birds. A soft smile flowed across her face as she dressed, stretching out her short limbs with a satisfied sigh before grabbing her robe and exiting her room.
Being back in the Annex after all this time had been nothing short of wonderful… and now that the lingering threat of the Final Days was no more, each Sharlayan sunrise seemed more picturesque than the last. Sure, there was what felt like endless work to be done, both in rebuilding the Students of Baldesion proper as well as cataloguing their findings of dynamis and the strange nature of Ultima Thule- but no matter how much work piled up, Krile knew that she could handle it. Her and G’raha could handle it… together…
It was just bad luck that her smile happened to give way to a frown right as she entered the reception of the Baldesion Annex. Still lost in her head, she hadn’t registered the presence of another until she heard a quiet laugh echo in the near-empty room.
“Ojika!” she exclaimed, looking up at the other lalafell in shock. “Gods, you startled me! It’s so early, I wasn’t expecting you to-“
“A good receptionist is always present when people may need them,” Ojika Tsunjika replied with a calm smile, leaning forwards from where he was stood behind the front desk, his arms resting on the surface. “And you are seemingly in need of such assistance, Mistress Krile. What could possibly be the cause of such a sour expression this early in the morning?”
Huffing, Krile purposefully strode past him, towards the main hall. “Just Krile, Ojika, please,” she stressed, closing her eyes and doing her best to ignore the quiet laughter from behind her. Since her appointment as the new leader of the Students- even if only temporary- Ojika had seen fit to tease her, frequently coming up with new titles for her, ranging from simple to some more elaborate than she had even thought possible.
He cleared his throat as she made to keep walking, and Krile paused, turning back to face him. The other lalafell raised an eyebrow, and Krile’s face flushed a light pink as she realised she had yet to answer his question. “I- It’s nothing, truly.”
“That reaction alone is enough to prove that it’s not ‘nothing’,” Ojika remarked, resting his chin on his hand. “Come on, Krile. Gods know that your workload is bad enough without adding more stress atop it. What’s wrong?”
She hesitated, tempted once more to simply wave him off and leave. She knew that Ojika wouldn’t really pry, not if she didn’t want to talk about it. But…
“It’s silly,” Krile admitted, eyes flicking to the side as a hand came up to toy with the edge of her hood. “I just… it’s Raha.”
The receptionist made a knowing noise, as if he’d suspected this all along, and that somehow irked Krile more than any thought she’d had that day. Pushing that irritation aside with a glare at the man, she continued, “It’s been over a week now since we’ve been able to put the Final Days to rest, several months since he was freed from the tower, and yet we have still yet to… to talk.”
The last words left her mouth lamely, and Krile cringed at the silence that followed. Not allowing herself to lose her composure so easily, she followed on, “I know he’s busy. Twelve know I am too! We have so much to do, and yet…”
When she trailed off this time, she really did not have the strength to continue speaking. Not that her hesitation halted Ojika any, with the man prompting her, repeating “And yet…?”
Gods, this was stupid. This was so stupid, she was so stupid… Bringing a hand up to cover her face, Krile groaned slowly and loudly, but eventually, she gave in. “…and yet he still finds time for them. I have no complaints about his work ethic, he gets as much done as anyone else, if not more! But it feels like every day that he’s out doing something with the Warrior of Light!”
As embarrassing as it was to vent all this in front of Ojika of all people, Krile couldn’t deny that the irritation and weight within her seemed to lessen a little. Besides, she thought, better to let herself be loose in front of him than another Student, or, Twelve forfend, a Scion.
But she found that opinion quickly changing as the man nodded sagely, before replying with a grin, “I didn’t take you as the jealous kind, Krile.”
The clenching in her chest returned, twice as strong. “What do you mean, jealous,” she said, voice terse. Of all the foolish things for him to say-
But her reaction seemed to surprise Ojika, who’s eyes widened ever so slightly as he pushed himself back up off of the desk. “My apologies, I did not mean to- Well, I assumed…”
He didn’t finish his sentence, hands brought up in front of himself in defence as Krile glared daggers through him. “Well, don’t assume,” she growled, before stopping herself a moment later. Wincing, her tone was much more passive as she spoke again, “…I- I apologise, Ojika. I did not mean to snap at you, I simply… I suppose I must be more bothered by this than I thought.”
Seemingly still a little shocked, he relaxed a little, carefully picking the next words to say. “I understand the stress we are all under, but have you tried simply asking him to spend some more time with you? Knowing G’raha, he probably hasn’t even realised you’re feeling… well, bothered.”
Krile had a suspicion that he was going to say something else before hesitating, but she ignored the thought for now. Ojika was probably right. Raha… as brilliant as his mind was, he could be so damned clueless at times.
“I’ll… think about it,” was her weary reply, finally turning away to push open the door to the main hall. So early in the morning, and yet she already felt exhausted. Ojika’s voice was strangely careful as he called out to her before the door closed.
“I do not mean to press, Krile, but perhaps you should think about why you feel so strongly at G’raha’s… lack of presence.”
A quiet grunt was the only response she gave before the door slammed shut, and she was once more alone in a cold room. The warmth that the early morning had given her mere minutes ago now seemed long gone, and the grandeur of the hall only served to amplify the lonely feeling that engulfed her.
Why she felt so strongly…? Her childhood friend had returned from what could well have been his death, be it the prison of the tower or the endless life of the Exarch. She wanted to rage at him, to yell at him for being such a fool, for not thinking twice… she wanted to sit with him, to reminisce on old times, on the adventures they had been on both with and without each other, to relive those wonderful days of their youth where they would spend all day laying around and reading.
She just wanted to talk to him. Was it not natural that she wanted that, after all they’d been through?
Was it not natural that she felt neglected when he left her without a second thought yet again?
That he chose another in place of her, that he…
Groaning, Krile flipped her hood down, bringing a hand up to massage her temples as she strode into the centre of the room. Perhaps Ojika was right, and it might be worth consulting another on these… thoughts. But, she thought as she looked at the daunting pile of books stacked on the other side of the room, that was something that could be handled later. Sighing loudly, Krile made her way over to the stacks of tomes. While it was a welcome distraction to the confusing whirlwind of thoughts in her mind, the work would be no less intensive.
It was going to be a long day…