"Brother."
He froze. The sunlight was dwindling and the lamps that peppered the market street were being lit, one by one. Harvard knew better than dwindle in the dark, for though he had the height and bearing of a Highlander, he lacked the pose of anything short of a commoner. A peasant. A victim, she said once. The word stung in his heart. It hadn't been long since those women had plucked him from the street, and mere years since his sister gave him to the chains.
"Brother. Wait a moment."
He did not turn. Footsteps drew themselves out from the alleyway, sharp and slow. Her robes rustled with her movements and she came to stop square behind him. She did not touch him. Could not?
Harvard waited. Delial waited. They were not alone on the street: others, merchants and shoppers and the other pointless faces that, thankfully, had the sense to give them space. There were whispers of her, of course, of the blood-stained woman with a poisonous smile. Harvard could not see if she was smiling then. He did not turn and she did not touch him.
"You should leave," she said at last. "Soon. The sooner the better. The city is not safe."
Again, silence. Harvard stared ahead. The Blade patrols were absent, he noticed. The bronze armor and the curved swords that made their regular rounds up and down the strip were gone.
"Brother, listen--"
"I live here now," he heard himself growling, the first words he had actually spoken to her since his departure from Ala Mhigo. "I live here because of you, but I've made the best of it."
"I only--"
"What are you doing? What have you done?"
"I am attending to your safe--"
It happened before he realized, before he could stop himself. His body swung around and he found himself face to face with the woman he had done everything to avoid. She met him with surprise as well, wide eyed, even taking a single step back away from her shorter brother. Her face was not quite as he remembered, hardened and marred. Her eye was the first thing he noticed, as well as the long scar that cut across it.
"Why me?" he spat. The words rose out of him unbidden but they had been boiling in his mind for years. Theirs was a family shattered and the only thing left, though he hated to claim her, was his sister. "Why do you keep doing this? You know what you did to Wes! Why didn't you 'attend' to his safety, too?!"
Once, they were close. Harvard could still read her, see the way her jaw tensed and the way her throat tightened. She was uncomfortable and she was angry, always angry, but there was something else as well. "He made his choice," she replied, her voice low. Delial did not look at him while she started to walk past him, shoulders barely brushing as her stride carried her along. "Just as I give you yours now. Make it. Leave Ul'dah, even if only for a few suns. A week. Leave it."
Â
"What have you done?" he snarled at her back. The woman did not turn nor did she address him again, weaving her way into the night crowds that were gathering.
He froze. The sunlight was dwindling and the lamps that peppered the market street were being lit, one by one. Harvard knew better than dwindle in the dark, for though he had the height and bearing of a Highlander, he lacked the pose of anything short of a commoner. A peasant. A victim, she said once. The word stung in his heart. It hadn't been long since those women had plucked him from the street, and mere years since his sister gave him to the chains.
"Brother. Wait a moment."
He did not turn. Footsteps drew themselves out from the alleyway, sharp and slow. Her robes rustled with her movements and she came to stop square behind him. She did not touch him. Could not?
Harvard waited. Delial waited. They were not alone on the street: others, merchants and shoppers and the other pointless faces that, thankfully, had the sense to give them space. There were whispers of her, of course, of the blood-stained woman with a poisonous smile. Harvard could not see if she was smiling then. He did not turn and she did not touch him.
"You should leave," she said at last. "Soon. The sooner the better. The city is not safe."
Again, silence. Harvard stared ahead. The Blade patrols were absent, he noticed. The bronze armor and the curved swords that made their regular rounds up and down the strip were gone.
"Brother, listen--"
"I live here now," he heard himself growling, the first words he had actually spoken to her since his departure from Ala Mhigo. "I live here because of you, but I've made the best of it."
"I only--"
"What are you doing? What have you done?"
"I am attending to your safe--"
It happened before he realized, before he could stop himself. His body swung around and he found himself face to face with the woman he had done everything to avoid. She met him with surprise as well, wide eyed, even taking a single step back away from her shorter brother. Her face was not quite as he remembered, hardened and marred. Her eye was the first thing he noticed, as well as the long scar that cut across it.
"Why me?" he spat. The words rose out of him unbidden but they had been boiling in his mind for years. Theirs was a family shattered and the only thing left, though he hated to claim her, was his sister. "Why do you keep doing this? You know what you did to Wes! Why didn't you 'attend' to his safety, too?!"
Once, they were close. Harvard could still read her, see the way her jaw tensed and the way her throat tightened. She was uncomfortable and she was angry, always angry, but there was something else as well. "He made his choice," she replied, her voice low. Delial did not look at him while she started to walk past him, shoulders barely brushing as her stride carried her along. "Just as I give you yours now. Make it. Leave Ul'dah, even if only for a few suns. A week. Leave it."
Â
"What have you done?" he snarled at her back. The woman did not turn nor did she address him again, weaving her way into the night crowds that were gathering.
![[Image: d_footer.png]](http://cuideag.com/ffxiv/resources/d_footer.png)
