Evangeline's eyes crack open as the morning light hits them, and her first sensation was that she must be captured by some great snake, or in the belly of some great drake.
She was almost immobile, surrounded by something warm and smelling slightly of salt. It took a few blinks for her vision to swim into focus, revealing the pale greenish blue forearm that wrapped around her chest, the culprit in her new imprisonment. She'd almost forgoten what it felt like to wake up next to Klyn. Evangeline smiles and shifts around, the Roe barely stirring at her movements as the Elezen brushes a strand of wavy blue hair from a giant cheek. The woman was fond of snoring, and more than once Evangeline had brought earplugs to bed, but this morning Klyn slept with all the peacefulness of a babe. Whatever stress and fear that had propelled her these last few months pouring out of her like a slit wineskin.Â
Klyn's work behind the scenes had likely spared Evangeline's life, and the woman's impassioned testimony sealed the fate of Friont. Evangeline leans down and places a kiss on that weathered brow that so many had discounted. They had underestimated her, because of her foreign speech and blindness, Friont focused on defending against the noble and powerful of Ishard, while a Blacksmith's daughter laid the final nail in his coffin. There were many more kisses she wanted to give the woman, but for now Klyn had earned her rest.
Evangeline slides out of the bed, eliciting a low murmur from Klyn, the Roe's hands seeking out and finding a pillow to crush to her chest instead. The previous night was a blur of wine, laughter, and relief. The two of them stumbling into the inn room, already half undressed. The desperate fury of the act last night almost annoyed now though, as she pads naked through the room, trying to find where her various articles of clothing had been flung. She suppresses a shiver as she tugs on a pair of crumpled breeches. Eventually she finds enough of to protect against the cold, and walks to the window, throwing the shutter wide, letting in the chill morning air to do battle with the dying warmth of their fireplace.
Â
There was some sort of commotion outside, and she could hear the faint ringing of bells, which only seemed to grow in intensity. Was this some Holiday she'd forgotten?
She smiled at the thought that the bells might be in celebration of their legal victory the previous night. However she knew most of the Church would rather drop a bell on her and Xanadu, rather than ring one in their honor. Still, everyone was rather animated, the streets full of pointing and shouts. Bleary eyed she looks to the horizon, rubbing at them as she sees strange black dots dancing at the edge of the mountains.Â
With an annoyed grumble, she realizes her glasses had also been last night's explosion of carnality. Evangeline searches for them on hands and knees, finally finding they had skittered underneath the bed. Having fished them out, she returns to the window, trying to figure out what she had seen.
Crows? But they looked strange...
Then, as the pealing of the bells reached a crescendo around her, Evangeline suddenly realized she was looking at something very far away... and very large. Her mouth goes dry for a second, and she runs back to the bed, shaking the woman awake as every bell in the city seems to boom out in one singular cry, their voices echoing and bouncing off the stone walls, the whole city shaking with their cacophony.Â
It is as if a thousand years or vigil, of sacrifice, of pain, poured out from those bells, reaching the heart of every son and daughter of Ishgard who could still hear them. It was wordless, but she did not need words to understand its meaning.Â
"TO ARMS"
Klynzahr rolls heavily out of bed, peppering Eva with questions, as she crawls shivering across the cold floor to collect her clothes. Strings of cautionary advice follow, as she assembles the familiar medical supplies and the less familiar books and quills. Elsewhere Evangeline knows others are going through their own rituals.
Somewhere Martiallais is buckling on the armor of a Knight, likely with a kiss from the Lady Dufresne.Â
Orrin and V'aleera are likely already prepared, Lances held high as they wait on some spire, ready to fly down onto any drake foolish enough to challenge the Dragoons of Ishgard.
Anstarra and Leanne would be stringing bow and harp both if they remained in the city. Ready to give wrath to invaders, and songs of succor to defenders.Â
And, in some private room, Xanadu would be gathering her cards and astrolabe, to stand and turn the wrath of the stars themselves onto the horde.
The bells crashed again, filling even her heart with steel at the noise, for she knew she was not alone. They rang out, the sound calling to a thousand years of instinct.
"THE ENEMY COMES"
She was almost immobile, surrounded by something warm and smelling slightly of salt. It took a few blinks for her vision to swim into focus, revealing the pale greenish blue forearm that wrapped around her chest, the culprit in her new imprisonment. She'd almost forgoten what it felt like to wake up next to Klyn. Evangeline smiles and shifts around, the Roe barely stirring at her movements as the Elezen brushes a strand of wavy blue hair from a giant cheek. The woman was fond of snoring, and more than once Evangeline had brought earplugs to bed, but this morning Klyn slept with all the peacefulness of a babe. Whatever stress and fear that had propelled her these last few months pouring out of her like a slit wineskin.Â
Klyn's work behind the scenes had likely spared Evangeline's life, and the woman's impassioned testimony sealed the fate of Friont. Evangeline leans down and places a kiss on that weathered brow that so many had discounted. They had underestimated her, because of her foreign speech and blindness, Friont focused on defending against the noble and powerful of Ishard, while a Blacksmith's daughter laid the final nail in his coffin. There were many more kisses she wanted to give the woman, but for now Klyn had earned her rest.
Evangeline slides out of the bed, eliciting a low murmur from Klyn, the Roe's hands seeking out and finding a pillow to crush to her chest instead. The previous night was a blur of wine, laughter, and relief. The two of them stumbling into the inn room, already half undressed. The desperate fury of the act last night almost annoyed now though, as she pads naked through the room, trying to find where her various articles of clothing had been flung. She suppresses a shiver as she tugs on a pair of crumpled breeches. Eventually she finds enough of to protect against the cold, and walks to the window, throwing the shutter wide, letting in the chill morning air to do battle with the dying warmth of their fireplace.
Â
There was some sort of commotion outside, and she could hear the faint ringing of bells, which only seemed to grow in intensity. Was this some Holiday she'd forgotten?
She smiled at the thought that the bells might be in celebration of their legal victory the previous night. However she knew most of the Church would rather drop a bell on her and Xanadu, rather than ring one in their honor. Still, everyone was rather animated, the streets full of pointing and shouts. Bleary eyed she looks to the horizon, rubbing at them as she sees strange black dots dancing at the edge of the mountains.Â
With an annoyed grumble, she realizes her glasses had also been last night's explosion of carnality. Evangeline searches for them on hands and knees, finally finding they had skittered underneath the bed. Having fished them out, she returns to the window, trying to figure out what she had seen.
Crows? But they looked strange...
Then, as the pealing of the bells reached a crescendo around her, Evangeline suddenly realized she was looking at something very far away... and very large. Her mouth goes dry for a second, and she runs back to the bed, shaking the woman awake as every bell in the city seems to boom out in one singular cry, their voices echoing and bouncing off the stone walls, the whole city shaking with their cacophony.Â
It is as if a thousand years or vigil, of sacrifice, of pain, poured out from those bells, reaching the heart of every son and daughter of Ishgard who could still hear them. It was wordless, but she did not need words to understand its meaning.Â
"TO ARMS"
Klynzahr rolls heavily out of bed, peppering Eva with questions, as she crawls shivering across the cold floor to collect her clothes. Strings of cautionary advice follow, as she assembles the familiar medical supplies and the less familiar books and quills. Elsewhere Evangeline knows others are going through their own rituals.
Somewhere Martiallais is buckling on the armor of a Knight, likely with a kiss from the Lady Dufresne.Â
Orrin and V'aleera are likely already prepared, Lances held high as they wait on some spire, ready to fly down onto any drake foolish enough to challenge the Dragoons of Ishgard.
Anstarra and Leanne would be stringing bow and harp both if they remained in the city. Ready to give wrath to invaders, and songs of succor to defenders.Â
And, in some private room, Xanadu would be gathering her cards and astrolabe, to stand and turn the wrath of the stars themselves onto the horde.
The bells crashed again, filling even her heart with steel at the noise, for she knew she was not alone. They rang out, the sound calling to a thousand years of instinct.
"THE ENEMY COMES"
![[Image: yr2A1Eo.png]](http://i.imgur.com/yr2A1Eo.png)
