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The soft pitter patter of light rain was heard throughout the Rest as Primam walked down the hall that led to the varying rooms that housed both guests and residents. There was something soothing about the sound, especially when the Rest was so empty at this current time. It offered some comfort in feeling like there were actually people here, creating some form of bustle around the Rest while Prim wallowed on certain thoughts. Over the last few days, she had been keeping a close eye on a calendar that she had bought at the Kogane Dori Markets. It was the month of the Fourth Astral Moon, or the Month of Rhalgr -- on Eos, she would have called this month ‘August’. As for the day… well, it was the 15th, not that Primam was quite certain what that meant wholly to her, given that each month on Hydaelyn had thirty-two days instead of varying numbers of days. It seemed more convenient in her mind, though. Either way, it was Primam’s birthday. Nameday. It was the first year she found herself celebrating alone. Even when night took hold over Eos, she had her brother, Canem, Felis, and other people she had made friends with among the Kingsglaive. The Starscourge made it much more important to them all to go out of their way to celebrate among one another -- not to celebrate just their birth… but to celebrate being alive long enough to see another day with those you hold dear… and to cherish what they had lost. A sigh escaped Primam’s lips, and she found herself soon in the tea room of the Rest. Closing the door behind her, she took a seat on one of the cushions after dragging it closer to the window. The more that Primam stared out the window, watching the rain ever pouring, her mind wandered. She wondered how people were doing back on Eos. She wondered if they missed her or any of the others that found themselves on Hydaelyn. She wondered if she was being remembered on the assumption that she died that day. A warm feeling pulsed in her breast, and Primam withdrew the Red Mage Soul Crystal that had been given to her by her mentor, Cynemund Blacke. The concept of the Soul Crystals as he had explained them to her was not lost on her. While she felt the influence of many over the years that were in there, there was also Cynemund in there, somewhere. Though she held onto the hope that he was actually still alive, she appreciated the thought that it could have very well been him that was approaching her in this fashion… just to wish her a Happy Nameday. Holding it close and closing her eyes, a small smile appeared. Quietly, she said: “thank you for everything, and being here for me, even now.” Even if it was just a small notion… it was enough to soothe the ache in her heart.

Author Notes: This is a bit of backstory of a very important moment of my elezen lady, Aure's, life. Just thought I'd share it since I wrote it down for a change. Please note that this is a dark story, so please take care of yourself and don't read it if you think it may upset you! Aure is about 6 years old in this, so it's set probably around 1557 in the Sixth Astral Era, which is right around the fall of Ala Mhigo and the Empire's takeover. I welcome any comments on the story or the writing after this post, and I hope you enjoy the read! The faint twinkle of the evening's stars were dimmed that night, the moon hidden away in its full splendor by a passing thicket of clouds. So thick were the clouds, that the moon's light could not shine through that all, leaving a thick blanket of darkness to swaddle Ishgard's warm summer night. The height of the Manors that lined the Pillars touched the cloudy sky, the sharpest points atop the roofs like knives, cutting through the thick moisture only to find themselves surrounded like a rushing river still. Among the Pillars heights, tucked in the tight corridors of nobility, a manor stood like the rest. There was nothing out of place or remarkable about it, save for a single flicker of light that lingered inside along the windows. The light from a small candle barely illuminated the hallways and it shifted, dancing about and nearly licking the skin of the hand that held close to it, directing the light forward and keeping it from being too bright. A door opened softly, not even a creek made as it swung forward. Inside, the room was quiet and still. It was a child's room, with toys neatly tucked away in the corner. School books and quills lining the bookshelf adjacent, and several poorly drawn images of a family. The man holding the light stepped inside, looking quietly down towards the bed as he made his way further and further into the room. The door quietly swung mostly shut. The candle light barely gave off enough light for him to see the girl's face. No older than six, she wore long silver hair and soft pale skin; she was the striking image of her mother, and none other. He stood there for some time, agonizing in his mind as he looked down upon her young fragile form. A bead of cold sweat ran down the side of his face. His dark tanned skin faintly glimmering with the liquid left behind as the candle's flame continued to dance. The green of his eyes shimmered too, the flames behind him mirrored in the reflection of the candle's own. His hands trembled. His face contorted with a myriad of emotions. He knew what he must do. He blew on the candle, the flame sharply dying and the room swallowed by the darkness. Tap. He set down the candle holder. He knelt down, his hands shaking. And then he reached out. Trembling hands grabbed the girl's thin neck, wrapping around its entirety and squeezing. Squeezing with all of his might. The girl gasped, her eyes sharply flickering open in the dark and her little hands grabbing at his, pulling as she wheezed and mutedly screamed. Her voice was being held back by his hands. Her breath was struggling, and she kicked her feet towards the assailant, trying to in vain to free herself. And then the clouds moved, the full moon's light raining down and lighting up her room like a wildfire. "Da-ddy…?" The girl gasped, her struggling seizing with shock. Her little hand moved from his hands upon her neck, reaching out towards him as she always had done. But the man's eyes were wild, his face more akin to a wild beast than the man she knew to be her father. He was always cold, stern, quiet, emotionless perhaps. What had she done wrong? It was the last thoughts that raced through her mind before her eyes flickered shut. And then she heard a loud commotion. She felt herself being moved, pressed back against something hard. Her eyes flickered open again. She saw her room, the door to it flung open. Her mother, the striking image of her daughter, was there. Her long white hair wild in the moonlight and nearly glowing. There was a screech, though she couldn't tell from which of her parents it was uttered. The glimmer of steel in the moonlight too, caught her eye. And then her mother flung herself forward, dagger in hand as she lunged towards her father. The blade piercing through his chest cleanly. Even half delirious and held to the walls, Aure could see the blood spattered. The grip her father held on her released, and she fell to the floor hard. He in turn, screeched and dove towards her mother. They were both on the floor the next she could see. Her father on top, punching at her face, blood spattering from her mouth as the dagger tumbled onto the floor. They rolled over, her mother managing to get on top this time. They were close to the dagger now, and she grabbed it. She screamed, plunging the dagger into his face. And then pulling it back. Aure could hear the a gurgling sound. She saw the blood spatter about the pink carpeting. And then her mother screamed again, plunging the dagger into his father's face. Again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again… Aure looked down, watching her father's blood pool around the floor and touch her outstretched finger tips. She felt a hot liquid well at her eyes, blurring her already hazy vision. "Daddy…" She murmured it as she breathed out between her mother's crazed screaming, and then it all seemed to fade away. When her eyes opened again, they stared up to a white unfamiliar ceiling. She felt someone squeeze her hand and tried to look over, finding her neck stiff and unwilling to move. "Aure… dear…" The voice was familiar. Her mother. The woman shifted besides her, leaning forward to come into her view. Her long hair was pulled back and still wet. Her eyes red and puffy. Her fingers trembled. Aure could feel how she shook without even looking. "What do you… remember?" There was a hesitation to her mother's question. "…. Did I… do something wrong Mother?" Aure asked, her voice hoarse and more like a coughing fit than a real question. She could feel her mother tremble again, the shaking growing worse. "No… you… you didn't honey…. But… no one can ever know what happened, okay? If they do… Mommy will have to go away forever. And your baby sisters… they will get hurt. And you will too. So you can't…" "Okay…" Aure interrupted her mother. In truth, she did not understand. But the way her mother trembled, the way she shook and the tears that mounted in the corners of her eyes, it scared the young girl. "Everything will be okay sweetie. I'll tell you what you need to tell everyone when they ask you about this, so just listen to me and remember this…." "So you say it was one of your ladies-in-waiting then? She tried to strangle you, stabbed your father to death, and then your mother chased her off? Is that correct?" The man across from her looked up from his paper towards Aure seriously. She nodded carefully, mindful of the thick bandages that covered her neck. The man looked back to her, his brow raised before giving a heavy sigh and nodding his head. "Very well then Young Miss Descoteaux. I am terribly sorry for the loss of your Father. Send my regards to your mother, and please ask her to come in once more, will you?" Aure pushed herself off the deep purple plush chair and nodded quietly again to the Inquisitor, carefully stepping through the small parlor room and opening the door to enter the hallway once more. Her mother was already there, dressed in black with a black veil across her face. She motioned towards the door and walked quietly past her, her eyes glazed over as she absent-mindedly made her way through the house. She found herself in one of the guest bathrooms and paused, looking about the empty and sterile room. She stepped across the marbled floors, coming to a long mirror and staring at her own reflection for a time. Her fingers reached out, pressing lightly on the bandages about her neck. She reached back, untying the knot that held them in place and slowly pulling them off, layer by layer. When she looked back into the mirror, the thick dark marking of his hands still lay imprinted across her pale skin. The edges had spread across like spikes now as well. Aure reached up, her eyes glassy and blank as she touched it again, a single tear rolling down from the corner of her eye and down her cheek, dropping upon the marble floor, and like a gunshot breaking the utter silence of that place.

(( What follows is a story about Zair’is and his partner in crime’s last ditch effort to get his memories back. Hope you enjoy the read! )) “Check your gear.” Zair'is absently addressed the smaller female Xaela. They had made camp just outside of Castrum Abania, the sun had set, it was raining. Zair'is was decked out in his usual combat gear; full range of motion in the arms, gauntlets that defended his forearms, greaves that gave him protection to his knees and lower legs. The Xaela's name was Artani and for the last few months they had been operating on and off as a pair when missions called for it. “I did.” The Xaela responded simply. She could tell Zair'is was nervous, even if he didn't outright show it. Her eyes scanned him and watched him as he checked his pack for the fourth time. “Check it again.” Zair'is paused to flatly deliver the command to her. Artani rolled her eyes and couldn't help but smirk a little, checking her small pack again to humor him. Artani's gear almost mirrored Zair'is', lighter and easier to move around in than his with less protection on the arms and legs. “I assume you know where we're going and what we're looking for?” Artani's heterochromia affected eyes pierced through Zair'is as she stared at him. Zair'is was mouthing to himself and making a checklist in his head, for as much as he could remember anyway. He absently nodded in response to her question. Artani shrugged, his response good enough for her. She shouldered her pack and checked her weapons, tilting her head up to look toward the horizon at the looming castrum. The plan was, at least as far as Zair'is explained to her, was to sneak in, find where they kept the test subjects for the hypertuned project, insert Zair'is in, and try to reverse the process that was done to him in an effort to get his memories back. Even Zair'is himself wasn't sure the plan would work, but he was running out of time and didn't have many other options. He was given some hand-written notes on his “condition” but nothing that would help him reverse it or fix it. Nothing that would even help him delay it. To him, he was going to have to handle the problem himself, only this time Artani insisted she help and watch his back. Artani rest her hand on Zair'is' shoulder, causing him to pause his pack check. “We should get moving. The rain's only going to get worse. I'll go in first and make a path. Follow my lead in.” Artani hummed and gave a slight nod as if to cap a period on her statement, moving past Zair'is toward the bridge leading into the Castrum. Zair'is took a few slow breaths and shouldered his pack. He used his thumb to push his katana out of his scabbard a slight amount, checking the motion of it to ensure he could draw and sheath it as quickly as he needed to. Satisfied, he followed after the Xaela. It would be storming soon, and the idea was to use the heavy rain to their advantage to get into the facility unnoticed. The hardest part would be retracing Zair'is' steps during his initial raid and hope that they didn't butch up security in that time. Zair'is had assumed security would still be recovering from the raid that nearly killed him. In reality, he didn't have much of a plan; more of an act of desperation that he hoped would be a solution to his looming problem. “We're on the way in. I'll keep you posted.” Zair'is murmured into his linkpearl, his footsteps sinking in the soggy sand. He was smart enough to tie his hair back to keep his hair from getting in his way, and without it he likely would have had a difficult time tracking the fast-moving Xaela as she darted through the night. She was eliminating guards in such a ruthlessly efficient fashion it would have made even the most established assassin blush. “So far so good.” Zair'is gave kudos to his partner over their private pearl. The Xaela didn't respond, clambering up one of the pipes on the outside of the castrum to pry the haphazardly repaired grating loose; their way in. She squeezed into the pipe, leaning her upper body out and lowering a hand to give Zair'is a pull up. Trudging through the wet sand to pick up speed, he kicked from the pipe and used the momentum to push himself upward, clapping his hand into Artani's, who simultaneously pulled him up to allow him to grab onto the lip of the pipe. She had turned back around at this point and worked her way further into the pipe, leaving Zair'is to work his way into it in a much slower manner, his build being much bigger than Artani's. Artani wormed her way through the pipe to the point she was out of sight, while Zair'is slowly shifted ilm by ilm through the pipe behind her. “Should probably lose some weight.” Zair'is heard over the private pearl. “You're almost a foot shorter than me, and you have much less muscle than I do.” Zair'is bit back in a strained tone as he continued to shift through the pipe. “All I heard was that you're a bigger target.” Was the quip he heard back. He saw another opening finally at the end of the pipe that Artani had already cleared for him. Leaning his upper body out first, he gripped the lip of the pipe and pushed the rest of his body out of the pipe, flipping his lower half over his upper half then dropping into the facility. Artani was already making friends, introducing herself to one of the Garlean scientists the best way she knew how. “Hypertuned. Location. Now.” Zair'is could barely hear the words, but could read her lips well enough as she threatened the scientist with her dagger and superior choke hold positioning. The scientist didn't say much, but did point down the hall which meant that Zair'is' memory hadn't betrayed him completely yet. Zair'is held his position for several moments, scanning his eyes across the facility and recalling the events that lead up to his near death experience. His timing was off, and there was some big shot lieutenant present that evening which meant a larger guard presence, and he had the misfortune of squaring off with the lieutenant himself. “Hey. Let's go. You can think later.” Artani encouraged him forward as she made her way down the hall, having given the scientist an unexpected napping opportunity. Zair'is pressed on behind the Xaela, letting her take the lead as she insisted. Artani wasn't convinced that Zair'is had fully recovered from being deathly ill and almost bleeding to death, so she was trying to stay out in front of the male Miqo'te to keep him from getting involved in too much action. Plus, in her mind, she was vastly sneakier than he was. “We're inside. Heading toward the hypertuned testing chamber.” Zair'is posted an update across the linkpearl. The hallways leading to the hypertuned project were surprisingly light on guard postings. Something that made both the Miqo'te and the Xaela nervous, but gave Zair'is hope that his intuition was correct and that were still on the recovery. Zair'is pulled a small leather bound notebook from his satchel and made a “psst” noise to the Xaela in front. Artani perked up and paused her movements, turning to look at the Miqo'te. Zair'is flung the notebook to her with a long, underhanded toss. Artani snatched it out of the air, looking at it with a quizzical look on her face. “Notes on how to operate the machine. They're basic and incomplete, but hopefully it helps.” Zair'is explained over the private pearl. Artani nodded wordlessly and stowed the notebook. Truthfully, she was nervous about having to operate the machine at all. Machinery wasn't her forte to begin with, and considering Zair'is' entire mental structure was on the line for this particular event, she was feeling less than confident. Zair'is' footsteps quietly padded across the metal floor, until they approached a door. Zair'is took a moment to reflect and then keyed in the combination of symbols to the best of his recollection. The panel flashed green and the door slid open with a gliding sound, revealing the hypertuned testing chamber to the Miqo'te and the Xaela. “Empty. Trap.” Artani quietly gave her analysis to the Miqo'te next to her, keeping her eyes scanning across the room. “Maybe. They might be trying to reboot the project. Or... maybe testing is finished.” Zair'is gave his assumption, taking a few steps into the room. He noticed the tube was closed next to the machine, with a dim red light providing a minor amount of illumination throughout the chamber. “...They put someone in there.” Zair'is alerted Artani, his eyes narrowed as he approached the machine and the tube. There was dim lighting throughout the room, overpowered by the dim red light on the tube itself. Zair'is stared at the control panel and held his hands out in front like he was about to start pushing buttons, but paused for a few moments to collect himself. Muscle memory kicked in and his fingers slowly danced across the control panel. Soon, the panel flashed green and the light mirrored the action by turning from red to green. The tube slid open and both the Miqo'te and the Xaela turned their attention to it. There was another Miqo'te inside. Male. Almost an exact match for the color pattern for Zair'is. Intrigued, Zair'is approached the tube, leaning over the lip of it to investigate the Miqo'te inside. His eyes were closed, looking as if he was asleep. Zair'is widened his eyes slowly as he noticed a strikingly familiar look to the Miqo'te. “...He... looks like me. No scars. Younger. I... I don't understand.” Zair'is vocalized his confusion, but was cut short by the Miqo'te's eyes suddenly popping open. His arm darted up and his fingers wrapped around Zair'is' neck, which Zair'is reflexively gripped the wrist of the familiar tubed Miqo'te. Artani was already in motion toward the tube, darting to the base of the tube. Zair'is stared into the tube Miqo'te's eyes, narrowed and noticing that his mouth was sneered in anger. Snapping his attention from Zair'is, the tube Miqo'te attempted to grab Zair'is' katana to defend himself from the rapidly approaching Xaela. Using his free hand, Zair'is pressed his fist into the outstretched hand of the tube Miqo'te, forcing it into the edge of the tube and holding it there. Forced with the decision of getting assaulted by the approaching Xaela and keeping his hold on Zair'is, the tube Miqo'te released his grip on Zair'is' neck, allowing Zair'is to retreat a few steps and get his hand on his katana. The tube Miqo'te raised a foot to plant it on Artani's stomach as she spiraled through the air to get over the lip of the tube and skewer the tube Miqo'te with her daggers, interrupted by the intercepting foot and forced backward. Flipping to a lowered posture as she hit the ground, Artani waited to see what the tube Miqo'te's next move would be, much as Zair'is was doing. Neither of them said anything, but watched as the tube Miqo'te climbed out of the tube, pulling free of the tubes attached to his form-fitting helmet. “I. Am rage.” The tube Miqo'te finally spoke. It sounded similar to Zair'is, but different enough to be off-putting in an uncanny valley sort of way. Still unsure as to what the purpose of the tube Miqo'te, but understanding completely that he was indeed hostile, Zair'is darted forward, drawing his katana in the same moment to attempt a horizontal slice across the tube Miqo'te's abdomen. The tube Miqo'te reflexively darted backward, using the tube to rebound back toward Zair'is and deliver a swift kick into his ribs. Into Zair'is' healing wound. The sharp pain bloomed across his stomach and his midsection in an instant, causing his arms to shiver, threatening to drop his blade. He felt moisture form on his eyelids, dropping to a knee. Artani responded in kind, launching into the tube Miqo'te's flank and attempting to bull rush him away from Zair'is. She connected, the tube Miqo'te not fast enough to intercept her completely. His hands pressed against her shoulder and the side of her head as she threatened to push the tube Miqo'te prone. Sheathing his blade, Zair'is rotated his body on the floor, kicking his leg out to sweep the tube Miqo'te's feet out from under him in an effort to take advantage of the momentum provided by Artani. He found purchase in the back of the tube Miqo'te's knees, sending him toppling over onto his back. Artani found herself perched on top of the tube Miqo'te with his foot planted on her midsection, attempting to kick her off and use the momentum to right himself with a kip-up in the process. Zair'is reached out and grabbed the free ankle of the tube Miqo'te, restraining him from completing the second part of his process. Artani was kicked up and slightly back into the air, throwing her slightly off balance, though she was able to roll and recover on the metal floor. Zair'is pulled the tube Miqo'te across the metal floor, his metal helmet scraping and bumping across the grooves in the floor. Climbing on top of him and digging his knees into the side of the tube Miqo'te, Zair'is propelled his right hand into the Miqo'te's face, striking him across his left cheek, then following up with a left. This process continued for three more punches until the tube Miqo'te grabbed Zair'is' right arm, noticing the wound he had that went across the whole of his shoulder and wrapped around under his armpit. He sank his thumb into the wound, applying pressure while simultaneously rocking his body upward toward Zair'is and gripping him by the throat again. Zair'is cried out from the shooting pain across his arm, his whole body shivering. He breathed in and out with heavy breaths through his teeth, saliva spitting across the tube Miqo'te's face as he stared unblinking with complete hatred and anger at Zair'is. His thumb continued to sink into his shoulder, blood spurting from the wound and oozing across the tube Miqo'te's hand. Zair'is attempted to used his left hand to grip the tsuka of his katana with an underhanded grip, trying to pull the katana out enough to use the tsuka as a blunt attack against the tube Miqo'te's ribs. The tube Miqo'te reflexively raised a knee and blocked the blade from releasing by hooking his knee cap against the fuchi. Zair'is locked eyes with the tube Miqo'te, both growling like wild animals at one another and locked in a grapple that Zair'is was quickly losing. The whistling sound of steel through the air could be heard along with the dull thunk of steel sinking into something soft. Artani had successfully aimed and lodged one of her daggers into the tube Miqo'te's thigh that was blocking Zair'is' katana from releasing. The tube Miqo'te flinched, but maintained his posture, still applying pressure in Zair'is' wound and flexing his fingers around his throat. Hearing Artani's footsteps rapidly approaching, the tube Miqo'te attempted his initial maneuver a second time, rolling backward and throwing Zair'is in the direction of the approaching footsteps. Successfully using the momentum from the throw, the tube Miqo'te rolled into a crouch and turned his attention behind him. Artani shifted to the side and held her hand out, catching Zair'is' good arm and throwing herself out of alignment in the process. The Miqo'te and the Xaela spun one and a half rotations before landing prone on the floor. Artani was the first to right herself, using a kip-up to get herself up from the floor. She stood defensively over Zair'is, who rolled over to his good arm and pushed himself up on his elbow, using a knee to elevate himself. The tube Miqo'te slowly paced across the metal floor with his bare feet, approaching the duo with his eyes locked on Zair'is. Grunting and still breathing in and out heavily, Zair'is tried to move his right arm and experienced the sharp stabbing pain he was intimately familiar with. Unable to move it more than a few ilms, he let the arm dangle by his side, blood still oozing across his pale skin. Slowly and wobbly, Zair'is stood, his underhanded grip remaining on the tsuka of his katana. “You're going to bleed out. You need to run.” Artani commanded Zair'is, not moving her eyes from the approaching tube Miqo'te. “I'm not leaving you.” He responded to her through grit teeth, his voice pained. He was breathing with sharp bursts of noises accompanying his exhales. “I can buy you time. You can't fight in your condition. I can.” Artani protested, still standing defensively in front of the wounded Miqo'te. “Now is not the time to be stubborn, old man.” Her words didn't seem to be doing much good to getting the wounded Miqo'te to make a run for it. Zair'is continued to stare at the tube Miqo'te as the distance closed between them. Artani grunted as she ducked low and attempted to gouge the tube Miqo'te between the ribs, which the caused the tube Miqo'te to respond by shifting his posture and wrapping his arm around Artani's wrist. The tube Miqo'te's hand applied pressure to her elbow, pushing it in the wrong direction and threatening to break her arm at the joint. Artani attempted to respond by jabbing her other dagger up toward his jaw. The tube Miqo'te attempted to intercept her strike by gripping her wrist but wasn't quite fast enough, instead catching the dagger through the palm of his hand. His hand was skewered but he had effectively stopped her from utilizing that dagger further, as the guard was locked against the bottom of his palm, the point of the dagger sticking through the top of the tube Miqo'te's hand. The tube Miqo'te continued to stare at Zair'is, flinching a bare amount at the blade gouging through his hand. Zair'is grit his teeth and took a step toward them, trying to quickly think of a solution that wouldn't involve Artani's arm being broken. Noticing that Artani's body was held off and slightly to the left of the tube Miqo'te, Zair'is didn't like the solution he came up with, but acted instead of thinking further. “I'm sorry!” Is all he vocalized as he turned his body and in one smooth motion released his katana and stabbed behind him with the freed katana, using his momentum and his underhanded grip to stab through Artani's side, ideally above her kidney and under her lung, then puncturing through her and stabbing into the stomach of the tube Miqo'te. Artani's eyes widened as she felt the steel sink through the soft part just above her hip, but felt the pressure against her arm alleviate as the shocked tube Miqo'te recoiled backward, his hand instinctively going for what was stabbing through his stomach. Artani flipped her dagger around in her hand and stabbed just below the shoulder blade into the tube Miqo'te's back, dragging her blade diagonally upward toward his neck. Zair'is turned the blade and as quickly as he could, pushed the blade to the right. Artani grunted loudly as the blade of the katana cut free from her skin, freeing her from being pinned against the still skewered tube Miqo'te. Zair'is twisted the blade again, pulling the blade in a z-like pattern through his stomach, pulling the blade free from his stomach with a spurt and fount of blood, then sinking it back into his stomach at a slightly upward angle, going through the bottom of his chest cavity and toward his spine. Artani and Zair'is' blades both reached the same conclusion, connecting into the tube Miqo'te's spine and applying pressure. The tube Miqo'te stared with burning eyes at Zair'is as Zair'is looked over his shoulder. Blood spilled from the tube Miqo'te's mouth, until his eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp, held up only by their blades. Zair'is pulled his katana free first, then Artani unhooked her dagger from his neck. She released her hold on the dagger in his hand, letting the lifeless body collapse to the ground. Zair'is dropped his bloodied katana on the ground, dropping back onto his backside. He was panting, his skin paling to an even lighter shade of white than it normally was. Blood had pooled along the metal from where he was standing. Pulling a cloth free from his satchel, he cleaned his blade one handed as effectively as he could. He dropped the blade onto the metal floor toward Artani, nodding toward it. “Heat it up.” He commanded with a hurried and winded tone of voice. Dropping to her knees, Artani pulled a whetstone from her pouch and proceeded to rapidly rake it across the blade. Panting with pain, she continued to rake the stone across the blade until it began to smoke and spark. Zair'is collected the blade with his good hand and immediately pressed it to Artani's exposed blade wound, a sizzling sound accompanying the gesture. Artani hissed and bit down on her tongue, feeling a tear roll down her cheek. Zair'is rubbed the blade along her wound until the brief flash of heat was ineffective and tossed the blade aside again. Pushing himself up back into a standing posture over Artani, he pulled a small bottle from his pack and proceeded to uncap it and dump its contents across Artani's barely cauterized wound. He watched the liquid foam slightly along the wound, Artani still biting down on her tongue and hissing through the process. Wobbling, Zair'is gripped his shoulder to apply pressure to it. He swallowed heavily with a noise of pain coming from his throat. “Sit.” Artani groaned from her throat, coming up to her knees as Zair'is dropped back down on his backside. Digging through Zair'is' pack, Artani pulled out a couple more cloths, wrapping them around Zair'is shoulder and under his armpit to cover the wound as completely as she could. She dumped what remained of the bottle into the cloth to soak it, then wrapped more cloth around it. Tying it off to ensure it stayed tight, she checked Zair'is stomach, noticing that the scab had ruptured, but the bleeding was controlled. She lifted her gaze to Zair'is' face, then to the machine. “We have to hurry. Can you stand up?” Artani slowly pulled herself to her feet, gently gripping Zair'is' arm to help him up. Zair'is groaned and hissed through his grit teeth as he stood with her assistance. Slowly they made their way to the machine. Zair'is gripped the edge of the tube with his good arm and with Artani's help guided himself into the tube. “We're starting the process now.” Zair'is updated the linkpearl with a slow and deliberate delivery of words, feeling faint and weak at this point. Flopping onto his back into the tube, Zair'is gave Artani a limp thumbs up. Sliding Zair'is' instructions onto the control panel, Artani scanned it and then the panel, pressing a few buttons to cause the tube to slide closed. The Xaela's eyes scanned over the Garlean script appearing along the machine, slowly working through it with the aid of Zair'is' hasty instructions. Deliberately and carefully punching the buttons as she went, she noticed that the machine was a bit more freeform in what it could do. Potentially, if she was understanding things correctly, she could alter the Miqo'te's memories; even erase some entirely if she wanted. It did look like there was a means to revert the destruction of his memories, but there was also a risk of leaving him brain-dead from the process. Artani paused, thinking over her options. Zair'is had commandeered the helmet the tube Miqo'te had on and had plugged himself in once the door had shut. Feeling an overwhelming sense of drowsiness mixed with a sharp painful sensation like the worst migraine he'd ever had, he felt like he was listlessly floating in a black void. Sounds echoed in his mind in what seemed like slow motion, voices with indiscernible messages infiltrated his thoughts, and fragments of thoughts and memories floated through his peripheral like stars in the sky. Artani was scared. She could be responsible for the death of the Miqo'te if she didn't do this right. Even if she did everything right there was still a chance it wouldn't take and would leave the Miqo'te brain-dead in the tube. Knowing that Zair'is’ wish was to have all of his memories, both good and bad, back; she began the process of reverting the subjugation. Tapping buttons on the console while trying to ignore the searing pain in her side, she darted her eyes to the notes, then back to the console. She had entered everything correctly. She thought she did, anyway. The machine whirred and made several clicking noises, lights flashing from red, to green, then back again. Artani stared at the console, her hands balling into fists. She darted her gaze to the tube, then back to the console. Zair'is continued to float in the void. Voices started to register and make sense. Familiar voices from people he recognized. He could place faces with the voices. His memories slowly coming out of his peripheral and back into focus. Occasionally there would be an interruption to the voices, like a orchestrion skipping while it played, but things that he had once had great difficulty remembering slowly came back into focus. The machine continued to click and go through commands, Garlean script scrolling along the machine. Suddenly, the lights began to click off one by one, pulling Artani's attention from the console to the lights themselves. Emergency lighting began to click on. Panicked, Artani figured they were killing power to the facility. She slammed her fists on the edge of the console. “Faster.” She commanded it as if it would cater to her every whim. Within moments she was plunged into darkness, the only source of light being the faint pulsing light of the emergency lights and the lazily blinking red light on top of the tube. Artani's eyes were wide, darting between the console and the tube. “No. Nononono...” She muttered, tapping at the buttons furiously to get some sort of response out of the console. The machine was silent. “No. No, please.” She begged the console, raising her hand to slowly pull the release lever on the console to pop the lock on the tube. With a forceful tug, she unlocked the tube. Moving to the side of the tube, she put her weight into pulling the lid open, feeling stabbing pain running through her side as she did so. Finally throwing the lid off the tube, Zair'is was barely visible in the dim light, still with his head tilted to the side. Artani clambered up onto the tube and pressed her ear to his chest. He was breathing, faintly. Her hand moved up to his face, running along his cheek for a moment until she began pulling the lightless tubes from the helmet. Sitting Zair'is up, she pulled the helmet from him. She flicked him in the forehead. No response. Next she pinched his ear. No response. “Wake up! WAKE UP, GODS DAMN YOU!” She shouted, frustrated and slapping her hand across his cheek. Zair'is furrowed his brow, blinking his eyes open in a bewildered manner. “F-...fuckin'... ow! What was that for?” Zair'is murmured in a groggy fashion, trying to raise a hand to wipe his eyes, but was intercepted by a Xaela squeezing him into a hug against her. “Scaring me like the asshole you are.” She responded. The hug was brief, before she clambered back out of the tube, helping Zair'is out of it over the lip. “What do you remember? Do you know where we are? Do you know who you are?” She tried to assess his mental faculties in a hurry. “We... we need to leave. You made it work.” Zair'is nodded in her direction in the dim light. That was enough for Artani, collecting his katana from the floor, Zair'is followed closely behind the Xaela, using the darkness to their advantage to exit the same way they came in. Squeezing through the tube with his arm in the state that it was was one of the most agonizing things imaginable to Zair'is, and with a less than graceful flop out of the mouth of the tube, he landed on his back in the wet sand. He grunted and laid there for several moments, breathing slowly and evenly. Artani reached down and grabbed his good arm, pulling him to a sitting posture, then up to a stand. “We're... ou... out.” He murmured over the linkpearl. “And? What do you remember?” A voice responded back through the linkpearl. “I... I remember. The smug look on your face... when I thought I was being so slick and tried to steal a kiss from you under the Thaliak constellation... and you beat me to it.” Zair'is replied back with a small grin on his face, making his way across the bridge with the Xaela. “I'm going to make sure you get to your safehouse, then we go our separate ways for now. Best to lay low.” The Xaela took point through the rain as they made their way to the aetheryte. “Hey, Artani...” Zair'is started, both of them illuminated by the pale blue glow of the aetheryte. “Later.” She says, nodding and giving Zair'is a knowing smile. “We can talk about it later. Get going.” Zair'is stared at her for a moment, patted her on the shoulder then moved to the aetheryte, reaching out to touch it. He braced himself for the all-to-familiar feeling of nausea as he was whisked away to safer territory. Artani paused for a few moments, releasing an exhale like she had been holding her breath for the last hour or so. She couldn't help but laugh to herself quietly, rubbing her face a few times. With a smile, she too touched the aetheryte, disappearing in a flash of white light.