There was a sound of a gil purse being lightly dropped on a table. The clink of coins as they resettled. It was oddly comforting. Something material.
He moved over to the bed in the small inn room, sitting on it as he unfastened the sollerets and remaining armor. The image of her face had been ingrained. The bewildered look. Something between worry and trying to keep up a more collected front. The discomfort. A haze of guilt ever-present on him. He knew it was his fault, but… he didn’t want to leave either. There was less tension. She knew who he was. Had helped him. But that shouldn’t have been the main worry. There was a bigger threat than his own comfort.
But what was it again? The memories seemed to blur. Had he been living in Eorzea? Yes. That much was certain. And it certainly mean he must have come to know people. Someone must have noticed he was missing? Maybe she was one of them?
Thinking on it hurt. Trying to remember what he had been doing before waking up in the cottage, even more. Stab wounds. Bullets. A searing pain throughout his body. And then? Waking up in the cottage. Safe, but pained. How it had been so difficult to merely move, as if his entire body was cramped. It felt so empty.
“I…. I need to figure this out. Who was I? Or who was I to others?†Questions. Ever recurring. Had this happened before? Was he doomed to have it happen again? He felt tired, as if he had been running from something. With the last piece of mail removed, he changed into a simple shirt and shorts. Something easy to sleep in, given the harsher desert weather. Lying down on the bed, it didn’t take long to drift into sleep.
--
Perhaps what he’d been living was just another dream. Or perhaps he was just someone else’s dream? Maybe he was just dreaming now. He stood in a battlefield, dressed in the standard Garlean uniform. There was shouting on all sides as he aimed his gun towards the enemy. They were to lay siege on Ala Mhigo. Social unrest had grown. The emperor there was to be disposed of. Replaced by Garlean rule. The confused people would be helped. And to those lost to unfathomable reason? To be disposed of. He aimed, then fired.
Time moved forwards. Silvertear Lake. Conquest had begun again. More words, but he couldn’t make them out. The faces of people around him, blurred. Unimportant. Ahead, the Agrius flew forwards. An explosion. Falling. A notice that he had fulfilled his duties for the Garlean Army. Dismissal. A soldier who could not run was not a soldier needed on the battlefield. A like that, a simple knee injury had removed him from the career he had fought for. Returned him to the life he had. But it seemed alright. There was a family waiting for him? Wife? Daughter? He was uncertain.
Another time and place. It must have been Eorzea again. Some miqo’te girl and a lalafell that followed her everywhere. They were familiar. One was...dead? But which was uncertain. Through his efforts one should have died. Through a lack of his efforts, the other did. They had lived in Ul’dah. He was there for a time? More violence and fighting. The city was bombed? Water poisoned? The one responsible…
He knew the one responsible?
Another flashback. A seaport city. Beaches. Calmer times, but still, uneasy. It wasn’t the life for him. The people were friendly? He had a room there. fights with words? He saw her there. That girl who had helped him. They were fighting? Shouting? A sharp pain on his forehead? Then, she was gone. Something about her father’s estate? She was missed at that time.
A sadistic Elezen. Being stabbed. Carried to someone’s house. “No conjury.†It echoed in his head. “Please.†“Please do not use conjury on me.†It was his voice. But why? Was there danger in the magic to heal? The next day, he removed the stitches? What of the wounds? Nothing could heal that quickly. Whatever happened to the Elezen? Did they go home? Die? If a finger was lain on her again…
Next there was a masked figure. A black robe. Trythian Oul. No, Jin’li. His name had been Jin’li. The one responsible. He sought...death? Freedom? But he had been killed before. He was decapitated. He saw it happen. The dagger. It was Jin’li’s. He was...killed? But he was also alive now, wasn’t he? It was...a few suns ago? The intense pain. “I don’t want to die.â€
“There’s so much to do.â€
--
He awoke on the bed, covered in sweat. “There’s so much to do…†“I need to pay Jin’li another visit. My axe. It was left there, in that room. I want it back.†Sitting up in the bed, he wiped the sweat away from his face. “Bloody hells. He almost did me in. ‘Freedom from death’ my arse.†As Franz attempted to push himself off the bed to stand, he found himself falling on to the floor. “The hells?†It was as if the strength had left him. “Tired…â€. Why was he so tired? And hungry. Had he even eating the day before? A recollection of two suns prior at the Quicksand. “I ate..all...that?†A feeling of guilt. Edda had help him, and he couldn’t have even recalled her name at the time? A sense of shame. “Of course she thought it was some sick joke.†“The events leading up to it make no sense at all.†He snickered a little. “Still, help was help. Should repay that.â€
He tried to stand himself up again, wobbling. “For fuck’s sake! Get ahold of yourself…â€. He was better than this. He needed to be better than this. “Can’t expect to return the favor to Jin’li if I can’t even bloody stand…â€. Straightening himself out, he reached into the aether for a new change of clothes and walked his way to the bathhouse. He could eat something /after/ being presentable. The smell of dried sweat was unbecoming.
--
As he returned to the room to toss the sweat-drenched clothes aside, it became apparent he would need to do something about the situation he’d found himself in. “Can’t go back to the Still Shore. What if Jin’li targets one of them?â€
He made his way towards one of the lesser-known pubs in the city. It wouldn’t be very populated, but the food wasn’t bad. They never gave him any issues when he was a mercenary wearing a mask, so why should they now?
--
“Fuckin' Highlanders...", a tall, older Roegadyn sighed bringing out plate after plate. "better have to gil for this, boy."
Franz looked up at the man only once, a shitty smirk on his face. "I make it a point to never owe money. You should know that." He reached into a pocket and dropped the sack of gil. "Count it now if you have to." Then he went back to his meal, glancing around occasionally.
"Eight plates. Doesn't your Damned kind ever get full? Fucking taking myself a tip now." the Roe seemed satisfied with the money, as he walked off with the current tab paid.
"Get another aldgoat steak and popoto soup while you're at it."
"Might as well just let you eat the kitchen!" The Roe shot back.
Franz only let out a snicker. It was only a few thousand gil. Not that bad. He was keeping track of exactly how much of Edda's money he spent. Reparations would be in order when everything had settled. He'd look later.
He moved over to the bed in the small inn room, sitting on it as he unfastened the sollerets and remaining armor. The image of her face had been ingrained. The bewildered look. Something between worry and trying to keep up a more collected front. The discomfort. A haze of guilt ever-present on him. He knew it was his fault, but… he didn’t want to leave either. There was less tension. She knew who he was. Had helped him. But that shouldn’t have been the main worry. There was a bigger threat than his own comfort.
But what was it again? The memories seemed to blur. Had he been living in Eorzea? Yes. That much was certain. And it certainly mean he must have come to know people. Someone must have noticed he was missing? Maybe she was one of them?
Thinking on it hurt. Trying to remember what he had been doing before waking up in the cottage, even more. Stab wounds. Bullets. A searing pain throughout his body. And then? Waking up in the cottage. Safe, but pained. How it had been so difficult to merely move, as if his entire body was cramped. It felt so empty.
“I…. I need to figure this out. Who was I? Or who was I to others?†Questions. Ever recurring. Had this happened before? Was he doomed to have it happen again? He felt tired, as if he had been running from something. With the last piece of mail removed, he changed into a simple shirt and shorts. Something easy to sleep in, given the harsher desert weather. Lying down on the bed, it didn’t take long to drift into sleep.
--
Perhaps what he’d been living was just another dream. Or perhaps he was just someone else’s dream? Maybe he was just dreaming now. He stood in a battlefield, dressed in the standard Garlean uniform. There was shouting on all sides as he aimed his gun towards the enemy. They were to lay siege on Ala Mhigo. Social unrest had grown. The emperor there was to be disposed of. Replaced by Garlean rule. The confused people would be helped. And to those lost to unfathomable reason? To be disposed of. He aimed, then fired.
Time moved forwards. Silvertear Lake. Conquest had begun again. More words, but he couldn’t make them out. The faces of people around him, blurred. Unimportant. Ahead, the Agrius flew forwards. An explosion. Falling. A notice that he had fulfilled his duties for the Garlean Army. Dismissal. A soldier who could not run was not a soldier needed on the battlefield. A like that, a simple knee injury had removed him from the career he had fought for. Returned him to the life he had. But it seemed alright. There was a family waiting for him? Wife? Daughter? He was uncertain.
Another time and place. It must have been Eorzea again. Some miqo’te girl and a lalafell that followed her everywhere. They were familiar. One was...dead? But which was uncertain. Through his efforts one should have died. Through a lack of his efforts, the other did. They had lived in Ul’dah. He was there for a time? More violence and fighting. The city was bombed? Water poisoned? The one responsible…
He knew the one responsible?
Another flashback. A seaport city. Beaches. Calmer times, but still, uneasy. It wasn’t the life for him. The people were friendly? He had a room there. fights with words? He saw her there. That girl who had helped him. They were fighting? Shouting? A sharp pain on his forehead? Then, she was gone. Something about her father’s estate? She was missed at that time.
A sadistic Elezen. Being stabbed. Carried to someone’s house. “No conjury.†It echoed in his head. “Please.†“Please do not use conjury on me.†It was his voice. But why? Was there danger in the magic to heal? The next day, he removed the stitches? What of the wounds? Nothing could heal that quickly. Whatever happened to the Elezen? Did they go home? Die? If a finger was lain on her again…
Next there was a masked figure. A black robe. Trythian Oul. No, Jin’li. His name had been Jin’li. The one responsible. He sought...death? Freedom? But he had been killed before. He was decapitated. He saw it happen. The dagger. It was Jin’li’s. He was...killed? But he was also alive now, wasn’t he? It was...a few suns ago? The intense pain. “I don’t want to die.â€
“There’s so much to do.â€
--
He awoke on the bed, covered in sweat. “There’s so much to do…†“I need to pay Jin’li another visit. My axe. It was left there, in that room. I want it back.†Sitting up in the bed, he wiped the sweat away from his face. “Bloody hells. He almost did me in. ‘Freedom from death’ my arse.†As Franz attempted to push himself off the bed to stand, he found himself falling on to the floor. “The hells?†It was as if the strength had left him. “Tired…â€. Why was he so tired? And hungry. Had he even eating the day before? A recollection of two suns prior at the Quicksand. “I ate..all...that?†A feeling of guilt. Edda had help him, and he couldn’t have even recalled her name at the time? A sense of shame. “Of course she thought it was some sick joke.†“The events leading up to it make no sense at all.†He snickered a little. “Still, help was help. Should repay that.â€
He tried to stand himself up again, wobbling. “For fuck’s sake! Get ahold of yourself…â€. He was better than this. He needed to be better than this. “Can’t expect to return the favor to Jin’li if I can’t even bloody stand…â€. Straightening himself out, he reached into the aether for a new change of clothes and walked his way to the bathhouse. He could eat something /after/ being presentable. The smell of dried sweat was unbecoming.
--
As he returned to the room to toss the sweat-drenched clothes aside, it became apparent he would need to do something about the situation he’d found himself in. “Can’t go back to the Still Shore. What if Jin’li targets one of them?â€
He made his way towards one of the lesser-known pubs in the city. It wouldn’t be very populated, but the food wasn’t bad. They never gave him any issues when he was a mercenary wearing a mask, so why should they now?
--
“Fuckin' Highlanders...", a tall, older Roegadyn sighed bringing out plate after plate. "better have to gil for this, boy."
Franz looked up at the man only once, a shitty smirk on his face. "I make it a point to never owe money. You should know that." He reached into a pocket and dropped the sack of gil. "Count it now if you have to." Then he went back to his meal, glancing around occasionally.
"Eight plates. Doesn't your Damned kind ever get full? Fucking taking myself a tip now." the Roe seemed satisfied with the money, as he walked off with the current tab paid.
"Get another aldgoat steak and popoto soup while you're at it."
"Might as well just let you eat the kitchen!" The Roe shot back.
Franz only let out a snicker. It was only a few thousand gil. Not that bad. He was keeping track of exactly how much of Edda's money he spent. Reparations would be in order when everything had settled. He'd look later.
