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Coming out of the Rostra after a long day communicating with the other ninety-eight members of the Forum, the last thing Indigo Blumenthal wanted was to be stopped by a post moogle, looking rather flummoxed.
He had been enjoying a rather pleasant early evening stroll with Fourchenault when it happened.
"Mail for you, kupo." The moogle began, holding out the red envelope. "They told me to get it here as quickly as possible, so it must be important, kupo!"
Indigo felt a cold sweat run down his shoulder blades, burning the old scars that tugged at his skin as his back tensed. His hand, shaking a little, took the letter from the moogle's tiny paws. It felt heavy… many pages must've been contained within.
A letter…
If it's in a red envelope… then the only people it could be from are mother and father…
His gut twisted and he started to tremble. He tried to work up the courage to seem overjoyed, but all that came out was a strange 'thank you'.
Fourchenault instantly recognised it as 'unusual'.
"Indigo?" His deep voice was a salve on the hyur's ever-growing frayed nerves. "Is aught amiss?"
Indigo turned away from the departing moogle, keeping the letter tucked behind his person as he tried to get them to continue their walk to Journey's End. "N-No, everything is fine. I simply was shocked to get mail so late in the day... Maybe I should've given the moogle some Gil as thanks…"
A rather lame excuse… But not entirely false.
Fourchenault's ocean-blue gaze gave Indigo a once-over, lips thinning into a line before he looked away.
He's upset… I'm hiding things from him. He knows.
He knows.
Once he finds out the full truth… he… everyone.
"My children… once wrote to us saying that moogles like offerings… mainly fruits, alcohol, or trinkets. Mayhap you can find something in that avenue if you feel inclined to do so."
Blushing slightly, Indigo momentarily forgot that he was spiralling. "Alphinaud and Alisaie always wanted to meet moogles… To know they did and even gave you their insights is rather touching."
The elezen's cheeks dusted pink and he nodded. "Aye, though I have yet to do anything of the sort. Ameliance was the one who took to leaving them gift baskets for when letters do arrive at our door."
This left Indigo to laugh despite himself, letting the letter hang in one hand, as he used the other to politely mask his smile. "Of course she would. Well, I will have a think and let you know what I did- and if the moogle liked it."
"I would like that," Fourchenault responded, almost stopping Indigo in his steps. "Mayhaps you can tell me your plans over a meal tonight? Ameliance insisted you should come…"
Oh.
They want me there… with them.
He swallowed around a lump growing in his throat. "I-I would love to. If it is alright, I will go and freshen up at mine and get out of these stifling robes…"
"Of course, I planned to do the same thing. You needn't ask. I can simply send one of our servers to fetch you when the time is right?"
"Yes, thank you, Fourchenault. Ever are you and Ameliance the most gracious hosts." As he turned to smile up at the elezen, Indigo felt his stomach flip in several ways.
Fourchenault held a twinkle in his eye that the hyur couldn't quite place. It made excitement bubble under his skin- a flush dusted his cheeks.
Be still my heart. I am of 38 summers… I needn't get so giddy like a schoolchild…
The rest of their walk continued in an exciting but comforting silence, letter all but forgotten until Indigo entered his own estate.
୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧
Indigo had greeted his staff and told them all to rest after a long day. He was going to the Leveilleur's for a meal, and while he was sorry to not eat with them that evening, he promised to bring home cake from the Last Stand on the morrow to make up for it.
With that, he then excused himself. The letter was growing heavy in his hand, and he had to read its content before he was whisked away to the other estate.
Dread filled his chest with every step he took up the stairs to his quarters, before he shut the door behind him. No one would disturb him while he read the letters his parents sent.
They had all been trained to spot the red letters after too many incidents…
Not even the fireplace can soothe the coldness I feel in my fingers…
I must thank the others for keeping my room warm, at least.
Breaking the seal and opening it up, he pulled out a few pages. All wrought with red ink.
His breath caught in his throat.
Red Ink always meant failure…
Indigo,
Honestly, you should expect this sort of letter by now. What were you thinking, you ungrateful little child?
Just because you are in the Forum does not negate your duties of helping your family. This so-called Final Days has since been averted, and we have yet to even hear a peep from you. Had you hoped we had perished in the outskirts of the Tweleveswood? Foolish boy.
Your father has been writing to (name), who has been recounting to us how listless and useless you have been as a member of the Ninety-Nine. The private meetings with Ser Levellieur? Were you hoping to seek guidance or penance from such a man? You should look to him as an example of a true leader. He and his wife, despite their rambunctious children, are the epitome of perfection. You ought to learn a thing or two from them.
You still owe us, Boy. For everything we did for you, for helping you get where you are now. While we may have moved away from Sharlayan, that is no excuse to deny us our due. Surely you make enough money on your seat that you can spare your ailing mother and father some funds. You wouldn't want us to become a laughing stock. Because remember, if we are, you are below us. I doubt you would ever recover from such a blight on the prefect reputation we've managed to uphold for so long.
All you do is disappoint me, Indigo. Maybe you need to take a leave of absence and return to us so we can remind you what happens to naughty boys. Ever since you got that seat, you've been sitting on your hands and doing heavens knows what! Your father and I worked tirelessly to reach the upper echelons of Sharlayan through our own blood, sweat, and tears- yet since having to move away… you have barely supported us in kind.
I expect you to respond to me forthwith and tell me when you will be arriving here to learn your lesson.
Remember, my boy, you bought this on yourself. We do this because we love you.
Mother.
Flinching away from the letter as if burned, Indigo couldn't help the way the scathing words rotated around his head. Round and around they went…
Ungrateful.
Useless?
Disappointment…
Red-hot anger surged through him like a Snoll ready to self-destruct. "You dare to ask me for more money so you can keep pretending you're part of the echelon that took everything from you?"
Breath becoming laboured, Indigo grabbed the letter and threw it into his bedroom's fireplace with a strangled cry.
"Oh fuck you, mother, I will not be your little bank anymore!"
He then grabbed the envelope and tore it to pieces, laughing manically as he did. Throwing it to the ground, his shoulders heaved with the effort of breathing before he cast his gaze to the curling paper in the fireplace.
He was burning his mother's letter.
Despite the satisfaction he felt in the moment, fearfulness started to worm its way into his chest and made him feel nauseous.
If she knew what he had done…
Punishment would be even worse than it is now… She checks every letter. Made him bring a small box from his home that contained every single one.
Lessons to never forget his place and what he owes.
She will know. She always knows.
Now panicking and clearly not thinking straight, Indigo dove into the hearth to grab the papers, not registering that the flames licked at his hands as they curled around the paper and failed to grasp it as it disintegrated at his touch. Pulling them away, upon realising he was still wearing his robes and rings, he felt the searing pain register all at once, pulling a cry of pain from him as he fully tumbled to the floor.
His nursemaid- turned head maid, Miraelle, barreled through the door with a cry of his name before rushing to his side.
"Indigo, my dear, I came up when I heard a scuffle from your room! W-What happened?"
Shaking his head, Indigo's hands were smouldering, tears streaming down his face as Miraelle attempted to pull the sleeves away from his hands. "I-I'm sorry." He sobbed. "I-I didn't mean to throw it in the fire… I was just angry."
"My dove, let me grab a potion… I-I will need to remove the rings too, before they cool, or we will have to cut them off you…"
Nodding, Indigo stayed on the floor, sobbing near the torn envelope, his mind growing fuzzy with dread. All he could think was that Fourchenault's butler would be at his door soon.
But he wasn't sure if he would be ready to answer the call.
Not now…
Not now that his past was too close to the front of his mind. His mother's entitlement to his funds to continue to furnish her lavish lifestyle in Eorzea…
Much like her… I am nothing more than a man parading to act as if I belong in his echelon… when I really am nothing more than the dirt on her shoe…