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Souls and Steel [Short story] - SessionZero - 10-12-2015
Cold, crisp Coerthas air ripped at Reilan's hair as he stood on a cliff overlooking the city. How often had he come to this spot to gaze upon a place that was his home, a place for which he'd given blood and flesh and bone in its defense, a place he was glad to lay down his life for, and a place that was now utterly alien and hostile to him. The lance he bore on his back felt heavy all of a sudden, as if the weight of a lifetime of lies and betrayal at the hands of the highborn condensed within the weapon he had defended those lies with. A crunch in the snow made him turn his head, and his crimson gaze fell upon a heavily robed figure in a pointed hat. "You're certain this cold does not wreak havoc upon your old, broken joints, Irisviel?" he said with a grin. The mage stopped short, a deadpan mask set into her features as she stared at the Elezen.Â
"I could fetch the Temple Knights, you know. Then we'll see how clever that tongue of yours is." She trod the extra five paces to stand next to him with a sigh, looking over the same horizon. "I found her."
Reilan looked over at her as he felt his breath leave him. "...Alive?" Llaine nodded.
"Aye, alive and resting with Brunhilda in the Shroud. A tad delirious but no worse for wear. You know her, it'll take more than a few Temple Knights to bring Graveless down." She reached into her robes and procured a small scroll, then handed it to him wordlessly. "Here, that's as much information as I could glean, but it should be sufficient to start this little rebellion of yours." Reilan looked supremely relieved to hear Cael was fine, and took the scroll, opening it as he pulled it towards himself. As he looked it over, Llaine continued, still not looking at him. "I pray you know what it is you're doing, Orycia. Some of these people are nobles, Temple Knight officers, clergy. They won't just throw you in Witchdrop if you're discovered. They'll make you beg for death before they grant you any such mercy."
Reilan rolled the scroll back up and shoved it in his travel satchel. "You're Ishgardian, Irisviel. You know why I have to do this." Llaine finally looked at him, her one icy blue eye boring into his blood red ones.Â
"I also know honor and vengeance don't do you any good if you're dead. What about Cael? What about Rosamund? The people who love you and care about you. Why is it so hard for you to let this go and leave Ishgard behind you?"
Reilan snapped an arm out to grab Llaine by the collar. He pulled her close, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and she simply stared back, unflinching. "Long have I toiled and suffered under the delusions of fighting for a glorious Ishgard, for the love and adoration of the Fury, for the divine right of our people to exterminate the Dravanians in the name of our Goddess. But the men I once fought for know nothing of honor, or sacrifice. They know only greed. They take what they may and give nothing in return." He pointed to his satchel which contained the scroll. "These men, and those who answer to them, represent a poison, a cancer upon our city. I will bleed this corruption from Ishgard's veins in the manner of true Ishgardians - with the souls and steel of good men, and the strength of the Fury. I will rebuild the Ishgard I once knew upon the broken bodies of its enemies. I will reclaim the honor and glory of my family, cast so low by the malevolence of men who claim divinity. And if I perish in the pursuit, then I shall die with honor, in the way the Fury has ordained, and I will be welcomed in Her halls with song and with glad tidings."
Llaine slowly raised a hand and pried his from her robes, surprisingly strong for one in so frail a condition. "Do not lace your talk of honor with lies, Orycia. You're doing this for you, and no one else. For a petty grudge. I merely pray her tears are a worthy price for you to pay." Her words were venomous and razor-sharp, and Reilan actually flinched a bit. Llaine promptly turned on her heel and stalked away through the snow, leaving Reilan alone atop that wind-swept cliff, with nothing but a scroll filled with names, and her words echoing in his ears.