Drifting Afloat in Fallgourd (closed)

[Jancis]

Jancis looked down at Franz, considering him through the swings in mood, the gruff answer at the obvious, her failure to bring about any real useful light.

 

"Would I could wipe away such pain with words. To clean up this mess; Thaliak knows there would be no hesitation." After such a night she wasn't going to let her scratchy productive tone go. "Clearly it is more than employment; that poison builds shadows. I seen only half of you and that is not enough. He believes you a common tool to be used. Even with the good in your heart, there is much to do; believe in your own words." She failed to apologize for her blunt demand.

 

"My name is upon these letters should you decide to approach him or any of these others. Shall not just be you anymore, Franz. I give you what I have been given by them; my word and their trust goes with you. It will have to make due until your own reputation and worth is uncovered and seen."

 

She moved to the door at his smile, once again her mouth tugging to return it. Leaving the satchel and all there. "There is also a linkpearl within. I am but a word away."

 

Carefully opening the door she so swiftly swung the night before, she slipped through the gap and shut it as quietly as possible.

[Unnamed Mercenary]

Jancis was right. It wasn’t something he had particularly doubted, but it was an odd concept. He wondered briefly on which things she had decided were most important as he had blathered out his every fault and worry like a child. It was unbecoming nevertheless. He couldn’t continue to let himself be seen that way.

 

 

He waited a few minutes after the door had been closed before inspecting the other items in the satchel. The pictures. Various little ointments for pain. Local remedies. A smaller container of some aspected crystals.

 

 

What were these supposed to be for?

 

 

He would return to Ul’dah. Many of the people important to him were there. A smile on his face, he packed what was needed and departed for Gridania. He had time for an airship ride.

 

 

-- A few days later --

 

 

He had seen her twice. Edda. They had spoken. He had made a fool of himself time and time again. Her ring. Her feelings. The more he had tried to convince the girl of her own worth, the more he saw it hurt her.

 

 

But he continued. The ring that had been lost, found. Broken, repaired. They had met up again and talked again. Only words. I’ll hold onto the ring. Keep it safe. That’s what she had wanted.

 

 

Edda had asked him not to leave.

 

 

I can stay in Ul’dah for the time being.

 

 

It was as simple as that.

 

 

-- One day before the Grindstone --

 

 

He had taken stay at the Hourglass again. His favorite room. The one with a bed that could be moved outside to see the stars in the sky.

 

 

It was peaceful that way. On warm nights, he would sleep under the stars, wondering if Lydia saw the same.

 

 

He missed her with every onze of his being. And their daughter. What was her name? He couldn’t remember. And it pained him. So many nights had already been spent depairing over it. I need to be strong. I will see them again.

 

 

He had brought the satchel Jancis had left in the Float. None of the resources used yet. The pain was getting better on its own. Slowly. What had sore to the touch and uncomfortable only felt numb. Painless, but not fine. But not feeling anything was better than the feeling of being suffocated in his own skin. It was manageable. He only needed to ensure that he would not cause pain to others now.

 

 

It’s difficult.

 

 

Opening the satchel, he took out a small container holding some crystals. Each aspect, brightly colored.

 

 

Setting the container onto the table, he was reminded of past memories of crystals. What had happened long ago with a group of people lost in a haze of the past. Of when he had no control of his own aether, and it would render as crystallization of the area surrounding him. Of some of the things the Elezen had done, using the crystals as various catalysts for alchemical purposes. I’d have possibly died if it weren’t for that aetherial blocker he had made…

 

 

There was a slight newfound curiosity in the objects. Franz knew that they were commonly used in crafting as catalysts and in substitute for supplies on occasion. It made enough sense that the proper amount of water and fire crystals could make a pot of tea. And much faster than putting a pot to boil.

 

 

Opening the container, he pulled out a small, finger-sized fire crystal. Holding it with two fingers, he admired the small, compacted, form of energy. It was a nice sight to behold. So much that he had failed to notice how the red hue started to fade in grip. How the energy it should have been giving off was gone. That’s odd.

 

 

I don’t recall them losing their hue under normal use.

 

 

Noticing the drained hue of a deaspected, dead, crystal, he picked up another. A wind crystal. Green. Saw it fade to a pale grey. Nothing of use for its former properties. He wouldn’t know about it himself. That the cost of his actions was being paid for by the surrounding aether. That the experiments that had been done on him had not left with death. That he was consuming more aether than before, in an unknown effort to repair the damage he could not.

 

 

He left for the Grindstone, smiling, once again. I can help people there. Isn’t that good enough for now?

 

/lastpost