((This post makes references to this thread, though it takes place immediately after K'ile abandons K'luha and K'tahjha in Thanalan in the other one.))
Thanalan was a lot closer to home than Girdania, and it felt strange to be thinking that, because he'd gotten so used to thinking that Ul'dah existed in a whole other world. But now that he'd been further, Ul'dah and Thanalan didn't feel so far away. No matter how big or small the world got, though, it was always empty. Bleak.
Night here wasn't as dark as it had been in the shroud, but he supposed he'd fallen off the carriage again anyway. This time he'd done it on purpose, and he'd left K'luha and K'tahjha behind on purpose. The image of the carriage getting away from him a few nights past recalled itself to his mind, and he spat it out into the dirt.
The carriage was invisible to him now, lost in the night. K'luha's shouting had almost stopped him. Almost. He hadn't wanted to leave her like that, sad and in pain, but if she had proven anything it was that he wasn't capable of giving her what she needed. Even if he had become Nunh and let her have what she thought she wanted from him, it wouldn't solve a single problem in her broken person. He didn't know what he'd expected. Problems like that, deep personal fractures, could never be repaired. Only endured.
Somewhere in this desert, the infant body of K'luha's first child was buried. Nothing could change that. In Ul'dah, K'luha's other child absconded herself from the tribe. That could not be taken back, could it?
Damn it all to every hell and back. K'ile stretched his arms over his head and paced in the darkness. He just needed a few hours to figure himself out, and then he would apologize to her. Luha needed someone to be mad at anyway, someone tangible, and he could at least let her be mad at him.
"Can we talk about K'yohko?"
What? K'ile turned to the luminescent, glowing Nunh floating behind him. "Twelve damn this shit!"
The man's glowing lips smiled, "I know he's your nephew but he's-"
"No. Shit. No." K'ile pointed at the Nunh and turned away, fleeing again. "No."
When he stopped running, he was in Gridania, by the waterfall in the back. He'd followed a familiar scent here, muddled by pollen and damp earth. The mask man he'd found, crouching by the water, washing leaves, had been a thick collage of smells that did not make any sense. They were misshapen and impossible, as bizarre as if the man were flickering with strange colors and lights.
"You've got a strange smell to you, you know that?" K'ile had said to the man, staring at the hunch of his mud-colored shoulders and leaf-orange hair.
The man looked up at him. The mask moved, hands gestured, but no voice came. K'ile felt his body and throat move to reply, but didn't hear the words. They didn't matter. He'd made small-talk with the man, while he'd sorted through the scents that clung to the man.
Among them was an ancient smell, one he'd followed all the way to Cartenau and back. It had been so long since he'd felt it so strongly, but even here it was only an echo, and he couldn't remember clearly enough. Was it real, or was he wrong, or was it an illusion from the odd mix of scents? It was so strange and complicated, and he hadn't smelt it in so long.
He heard the mask man say, "You always talk so round about? Maybe that's why you're 'lost'."
Again, K'ile felt himself moving to answer, but didn't here himself.
Screw this. K'ile decided the smell might be what he thought it was, and thought was good enough for him. So what if he assumed he was right? It was the smell of blood, of family, which had once wrapped K'thalen and K'airos, K'airi and K'piru. What did it matter? The masked man hadn't done more than remind him of Thalen, and nobody knew better than K'ile how his brother had died and been burned away. What should he do about it?
Kile turned away from the mask man and walked off. He threw his hands over his head and shouted "Bah!" as he went.
Surprisingly he set foot in Ul'dah. The place was empty of a people, a strange and otherworldly absence. The Quicksand was full of chairs and half-eaten food, but there wasn't a single person there, not a single sound. A millions different scents mingled here, though, and he closed his eyes to sort through them. Lots of them were obviously unimportant: food and animals, potions and perfumes. There was layer upon layer of strangers who stank of dirt, sweat and rust. Beneath those, he found the scent of K'ailia, of K'luha, of K'haali.
Beneath all of them, was the ancient smell of family. It was strong, and once he noticed it, it overwhelmed everything else in his mind and became unmistakable. How had he missed it before? It was so much stronger than memory, than even the strange smell of the masked man that had reminded him of this smell. So dense and vibrant was Ul'dah that he had missed it, but now he was sure, that there was someone in Ul'dah. Someone, though he could only guess who.
K'aijeen. K'airi. K'piru. Someone. Alive. In Ul'dah.
* * *
K'ile forced himself awake, noting the brightening of the sky, the nearing of dawn. His first thought was that he needed to go to Ul'dah immediately. Nothing else mattered. Tahj would take care of K'luha, and she would get them back to the tribe just fine. Assuming K'luha didn't drop everything and go looking for him, which... He would tell the cariage driver that he had gone ahead to Drybone. K'luha wouldn't look for him immediately, and by the time she realized he'd given them the slip, they would have no leads to search for him.
It might be cold, but K'luha just needed to find someone else to be mad at for a little while. K'ile didn't question for a moment that he needed to return to Ul'dah immediately. It was a foregone conclusion, just like the need to conceal it. K'luha did not understand his feelings. She didn't understand how empty the world was, even the tribe was, to him. She would just want to fill that emptiness herself, which was impossible.
By the time dawn struck, K'ile was in full run, miles ahead of the carriage, and he wouldn't stop when he got to Drybone. He needed to get to Ul'dah. He might even rent a chocobo. Or steal one.
Thanalan was a lot closer to home than Girdania, and it felt strange to be thinking that, because he'd gotten so used to thinking that Ul'dah existed in a whole other world. But now that he'd been further, Ul'dah and Thanalan didn't feel so far away. No matter how big or small the world got, though, it was always empty. Bleak.
Night here wasn't as dark as it had been in the shroud, but he supposed he'd fallen off the carriage again anyway. This time he'd done it on purpose, and he'd left K'luha and K'tahjha behind on purpose. The image of the carriage getting away from him a few nights past recalled itself to his mind, and he spat it out into the dirt.
The carriage was invisible to him now, lost in the night. K'luha's shouting had almost stopped him. Almost. He hadn't wanted to leave her like that, sad and in pain, but if she had proven anything it was that he wasn't capable of giving her what she needed. Even if he had become Nunh and let her have what she thought she wanted from him, it wouldn't solve a single problem in her broken person. He didn't know what he'd expected. Problems like that, deep personal fractures, could never be repaired. Only endured.
Somewhere in this desert, the infant body of K'luha's first child was buried. Nothing could change that. In Ul'dah, K'luha's other child absconded herself from the tribe. That could not be taken back, could it?
Damn it all to every hell and back. K'ile stretched his arms over his head and paced in the darkness. He just needed a few hours to figure himself out, and then he would apologize to her. Luha needed someone to be mad at anyway, someone tangible, and he could at least let her be mad at him.
"Can we talk about K'yohko?"
What? K'ile turned to the luminescent, glowing Nunh floating behind him. "Twelve damn this shit!"
The man's glowing lips smiled, "I know he's your nephew but he's-"
"No. Shit. No." K'ile pointed at the Nunh and turned away, fleeing again. "No."
When he stopped running, he was in Gridania, by the waterfall in the back. He'd followed a familiar scent here, muddled by pollen and damp earth. The mask man he'd found, crouching by the water, washing leaves, had been a thick collage of smells that did not make any sense. They were misshapen and impossible, as bizarre as if the man were flickering with strange colors and lights.
"You've got a strange smell to you, you know that?" K'ile had said to the man, staring at the hunch of his mud-colored shoulders and leaf-orange hair.
The man looked up at him. The mask moved, hands gestured, but no voice came. K'ile felt his body and throat move to reply, but didn't hear the words. They didn't matter. He'd made small-talk with the man, while he'd sorted through the scents that clung to the man.
Among them was an ancient smell, one he'd followed all the way to Cartenau and back. It had been so long since he'd felt it so strongly, but even here it was only an echo, and he couldn't remember clearly enough. Was it real, or was he wrong, or was it an illusion from the odd mix of scents? It was so strange and complicated, and he hadn't smelt it in so long.
He heard the mask man say, "You always talk so round about? Maybe that's why you're 'lost'."
Again, K'ile felt himself moving to answer, but didn't here himself.
Screw this. K'ile decided the smell might be what he thought it was, and thought was good enough for him. So what if he assumed he was right? It was the smell of blood, of family, which had once wrapped K'thalen and K'airos, K'airi and K'piru. What did it matter? The masked man hadn't done more than remind him of Thalen, and nobody knew better than K'ile how his brother had died and been burned away. What should he do about it?
Kile turned away from the mask man and walked off. He threw his hands over his head and shouted "Bah!" as he went.
Surprisingly he set foot in Ul'dah. The place was empty of a people, a strange and otherworldly absence. The Quicksand was full of chairs and half-eaten food, but there wasn't a single person there, not a single sound. A millions different scents mingled here, though, and he closed his eyes to sort through them. Lots of them were obviously unimportant: food and animals, potions and perfumes. There was layer upon layer of strangers who stank of dirt, sweat and rust. Beneath those, he found the scent of K'ailia, of K'luha, of K'haali.
Beneath all of them, was the ancient smell of family. It was strong, and once he noticed it, it overwhelmed everything else in his mind and became unmistakable. How had he missed it before? It was so much stronger than memory, than even the strange smell of the masked man that had reminded him of this smell. So dense and vibrant was Ul'dah that he had missed it, but now he was sure, that there was someone in Ul'dah. Someone, though he could only guess who.
K'aijeen. K'airi. K'piru. Someone. Alive. In Ul'dah.
* * *
K'ile forced himself awake, noting the brightening of the sky, the nearing of dawn. His first thought was that he needed to go to Ul'dah immediately. Nothing else mattered. Tahj would take care of K'luha, and she would get them back to the tribe just fine. Assuming K'luha didn't drop everything and go looking for him, which... He would tell the cariage driver that he had gone ahead to Drybone. K'luha wouldn't look for him immediately, and by the time she realized he'd given them the slip, they would have no leads to search for him.
It might be cold, but K'luha just needed to find someone else to be mad at for a little while. K'ile didn't question for a moment that he needed to return to Ul'dah immediately. It was a foregone conclusion, just like the need to conceal it. K'luha did not understand his feelings. She didn't understand how empty the world was, even the tribe was, to him. She would just want to fill that emptiness herself, which was impossible.
By the time dawn struck, K'ile was in full run, miles ahead of the carriage, and he wouldn't stop when he got to Drybone. He needed to get to Ul'dah. He might even rent a chocobo. Or steal one.
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