The first thing Laharal Mergrey saw when he opened his jade green eyes was a white ceiling. There were cracks in the white plaster overhead and the miqo'te followed their routes as his mind slowly pieced itself back together as he regained consciousness.Â
The male's vision began to swim and he felt as if he was suddenly spinning over himself. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply in surprise as he tried to stop the disorientation he was experiencing. Â
"Ah, so you are alive." came a flat voice from beside him.
Laharal's eyes flew open and he tried to turn his head; but a pinched nerve in his neck locked his head in place and his face twisted in a clenched mask of pain as he gasped.
"Though I imagine you don't feel very alive right now." came the voice again. Laharal heard the sound of a chair being scooted and then footsteps on a wooden floor marked the passage of the speaker towards the bed Laharal was resting in.
The miqo'te looked up at the face peering down at him.
The speaker was a short, tanned hyur with a balding head of black hair and a trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache. He had a large nose and full cheeks that were marked with the lines of developing wrinkles. His brown eyes held a kind shape, even if his mouth was currently scowling as he looked at Laharal.
"Suppose you are wondering who I am and where you are." the man grunted as he ran his tongue over his teeth.
Laharal managed a weak nod but said nothing as he watched the hyur above him.
"Well." the hyur replied calmly, leaning back. "You got lucky. Lot of folks around here would have left you to die in that field or, done you in themselves. You Garleans are what we would call 'not very popular' around here. We were fine living on our own. Then you decide you want our country and start flying your airships over, and going to war with our children and-" the hyur stopped himself with a grunt and crossed his arms.
"My name is Alex Torme and you crashed right down in the middle of one of my fields. Course the rest of that airship you were on crashed too; but far enough away it isn't -my- concern. Brought you back, called the healer in from town to fix you up best we could, and been letting you sleep since."
The hyur leaned over the miqo'te and frowned.
"But let's get something clear right now. I only saved you cause it was the godly thing to do. If I didn't pray to my god, you would be in that field fertilizing my crops. You are welcome till you get better. After that, I'd like you to go. Got no need for trouble. I don't even know if we are officially under you Empire's control or not yet, but been telling people you are an old friend of the family running from the fighting. If anyone outside my family asks while you here, you tell them that. Or I'll make you regret I found you."
Laharal blinked at the man. He was having some trouble grasping everything he was being told. His mind was a blur and memories of what had happened aboard the airship kept flashing up and interrupting the speaking hyur. He did understand the man had helped him, and his body was very eagerly reminding him of how much he hurt. Laharal knew his left leg was broken and had been set and that a lot of his body was badly bruised and stiff and sore.
But he was alive. It part to this strange hyur looking down at him. And Laharal owed him.
"No trouble from me." Laharal said weakly, his mouth dry. "And thank you."
The hyur nodded, seemingly satisfied and turned.
"I'll be back in a few with some food. It'll be nice to have you drinking on your own instead of pouring water down your throat."
Laharal could hear his footfalls as the man walked to the door and shut it. The miqo'te sighed as he looked up. The cracked plaster above him began to blur and Laharal slipped back into unconsciousness eagerly.
-Elsewhere-
"So, the operation was a success?"
The speaker was a young woman dressed in brown work clothes. She was seated at a table in a small, hollowed out tunnel. Light from a single lantern burned nearby and the lone flame flickered gently.
"Can't be sure." came the reply from her counter part, a deep voice man in a uniform like the female's. "Haven't heard word back from our operatives on the Tempest Wind but our agents in the military are saying the higher command of the Garlean Fleet is scampering around to dispatch troops to the area the vessel was last seen."
"Doesn't mean it's for sure down." the female said thoughtfully. "For all we know, it's failed and they are going to invade."
"Invade what?" the man chuckled. "Farms? They need that infrastructure untouched to feed their armies. It's not like they're invading Eorzea here."
"Wish they -were- invading those idiots." the woman growled.
"Be that as it may, they didn't. The Garleans added -us- to their Empire and now we are making them pay for it." the man smirked. "That aside, we've already sent an agent to the town near the ship's last known location to get a report. Should hear in a week or two. But even if that ship didn't go down, this is still a massive success. Managing the infiltrate the Garlean Navy so utterly that we had operatives stationed aboard a covert testing mission shows how far we've come."
The woman nodded at that.
The male's vision began to swim and he felt as if he was suddenly spinning over himself. He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply in surprise as he tried to stop the disorientation he was experiencing. Â
"Ah, so you are alive." came a flat voice from beside him.
Laharal's eyes flew open and he tried to turn his head; but a pinched nerve in his neck locked his head in place and his face twisted in a clenched mask of pain as he gasped.
"Though I imagine you don't feel very alive right now." came the voice again. Laharal heard the sound of a chair being scooted and then footsteps on a wooden floor marked the passage of the speaker towards the bed Laharal was resting in.
The miqo'te looked up at the face peering down at him.
The speaker was a short, tanned hyur with a balding head of black hair and a trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache. He had a large nose and full cheeks that were marked with the lines of developing wrinkles. His brown eyes held a kind shape, even if his mouth was currently scowling as he looked at Laharal.
"Suppose you are wondering who I am and where you are." the man grunted as he ran his tongue over his teeth.
Laharal managed a weak nod but said nothing as he watched the hyur above him.
"Well." the hyur replied calmly, leaning back. "You got lucky. Lot of folks around here would have left you to die in that field or, done you in themselves. You Garleans are what we would call 'not very popular' around here. We were fine living on our own. Then you decide you want our country and start flying your airships over, and going to war with our children and-" the hyur stopped himself with a grunt and crossed his arms.
"My name is Alex Torme and you crashed right down in the middle of one of my fields. Course the rest of that airship you were on crashed too; but far enough away it isn't -my- concern. Brought you back, called the healer in from town to fix you up best we could, and been letting you sleep since."
The hyur leaned over the miqo'te and frowned.
"But let's get something clear right now. I only saved you cause it was the godly thing to do. If I didn't pray to my god, you would be in that field fertilizing my crops. You are welcome till you get better. After that, I'd like you to go. Got no need for trouble. I don't even know if we are officially under you Empire's control or not yet, but been telling people you are an old friend of the family running from the fighting. If anyone outside my family asks while you here, you tell them that. Or I'll make you regret I found you."
Laharal blinked at the man. He was having some trouble grasping everything he was being told. His mind was a blur and memories of what had happened aboard the airship kept flashing up and interrupting the speaking hyur. He did understand the man had helped him, and his body was very eagerly reminding him of how much he hurt. Laharal knew his left leg was broken and had been set and that a lot of his body was badly bruised and stiff and sore.
But he was alive. It part to this strange hyur looking down at him. And Laharal owed him.
"No trouble from me." Laharal said weakly, his mouth dry. "And thank you."
The hyur nodded, seemingly satisfied and turned.
"I'll be back in a few with some food. It'll be nice to have you drinking on your own instead of pouring water down your throat."
Laharal could hear his footfalls as the man walked to the door and shut it. The miqo'te sighed as he looked up. The cracked plaster above him began to blur and Laharal slipped back into unconsciousness eagerly.
-Elsewhere-
"So, the operation was a success?"
The speaker was a young woman dressed in brown work clothes. She was seated at a table in a small, hollowed out tunnel. Light from a single lantern burned nearby and the lone flame flickered gently.
"Can't be sure." came the reply from her counter part, a deep voice man in a uniform like the female's. "Haven't heard word back from our operatives on the Tempest Wind but our agents in the military are saying the higher command of the Garlean Fleet is scampering around to dispatch troops to the area the vessel was last seen."
"Doesn't mean it's for sure down." the female said thoughtfully. "For all we know, it's failed and they are going to invade."
"Invade what?" the man chuckled. "Farms? They need that infrastructure untouched to feed their armies. It's not like they're invading Eorzea here."
"Wish they -were- invading those idiots." the woman growled.
"Be that as it may, they didn't. The Garleans added -us- to their Empire and now we are making them pay for it." the man smirked. "That aside, we've already sent an agent to the town near the ship's last known location to get a report. Should hear in a week or two. But even if that ship didn't go down, this is still a massive success. Managing the infiltrate the Garlean Navy so utterly that we had operatives stationed aboard a covert testing mission shows how far we've come."
The woman nodded at that.