Day to day. [Open]

[Xydane Vale]

The two Elezen charged, swords held high as they rushed to kill the Hyur trespasser. The first one swung down and Xydane parried with his sword, bringing his hidden blade to slash the Elezen's neck as he ran past by. The second swung high in an attempt to remove the Hyur's head from his spine. That too was an ill fated move. What the Elezen failed to realize was that Xydane didn't wear plate steel. His choice of leather provided him the opportunity to move and strike fast and indeed, Xydane was too fast. Ducking the failed decapitation, Xydane brought both body, sword, and blade into the Elezen's gut as he lunged on top of him.

 

Leaving the Coporal to her work, Xydane ran into the hallway and made for the left. The building held numerous rooms, twisting halls, and if navigating through it to look for one Hyur prisoner wasn't enough, the smoke and fire from the explosion only added to the confusion and chaos. Here and there, an Elezen guard would show only to be quickly struck down by the hooded man that used the smoke to his favor.

 

As he desperately looked to each room, Xydane roared to Kokojo whom he assumed was further down the halls, probably putting in quick work to more of the guards.

 

Kicking the debris that blockaded the last room in the hallway, Xydane found himself in the presence of a single male Elezen who's chest was impaled by falling wood and splinter. The Elezen coughed, blood dripping from his mouth as the smoke and injury slowly killed him.

 

Walking towards the Elezen and bringing the sword against his throat, Xydane frowned in disgust as he spoke.

 

"I can end your pain quickly if you choose to answer me. Where is Erik Mynhier?!"

 

Spitting a mouthful of fresh blood onto the wood that pinned him down, the Elezen smirked.

 

"T-the bastard.... escaped. You, however.... will not."

 

Turning around, Xydane soon found himself in the company of four other Elezen, their weapons drawn as they closed in to kill the trespasser inside the room.

 

"K-kill him! D-don't let him escape!" barked the Elezen before succumbing to his wounds. With their backs turned from the halls, Xydane hoped that Kokojo would use their complacency to her advantage.

[Melkire]

A man on the ground is a dead man.

 

Elezen as a rule were not used to fighting from such a vantage point. Lalafell were.

 

It was that simple.

 

She followed Xydane down the hall, then turned right. What awaited her weren't prison cells but closets, storage rooms, maintenance rooms, offices... she found a corpse, stripped clean of clothes, in one room, and several more in another. The last chamber... the last chamber was where... the place lay in ruins: papers, chairs, and tables burning, walls charring, roof crumbling, room smoking.  

 

Kokojo heard the knight bellow, and, though she couldn't make out any words, she got the gist. She hollered back, "Clear! We're clear! He's not here!"

 

Back down the hallway the little corporal darted; she came to the junction and went the other way this time, her breathing labored now as she turned one corner after another after another until finally she found....

 

Too many. Too late. They pressed in around the Hyur, lances drawn back for the thrust.

 

She dropped her shield.

 

 

 

 

"...very well. So much for the lieutenant. What can you tell me of your subordinates?"

 

He sighed as he dipped the brush again into the soot black dye and drew it over the barbute helmet again. The voice in his head never ceased; it was always asking questions, always pressing for weakness, for advantage.

 

"Only ever had the one since Halatali. Corporal Haruko Kokojo. Female. Dunesfolk. Good person. Good soldier."

 

"Specifics please, Master Osric. You should know that by now."

 

Another layer. One stripe. Two stripes. Three stripes. Jin'li had insisted that he look the part, so he had gone to great lengths and pains to smuggle his father's old armor out of the city.

 

"Helped me with the recruits, mostly. Occasionally accompanied me on investigations and matters of a more... personal nature."

 

"Skills?"

 

"Paladin-in-training, but her bladework is shoddy, from what I've been told. That said, could've been Sultansworn thrice over, if she'd chosen the Oath."

 

"Hmm. Why didn't she?"

 

"Because I asked her not to. I... needed her. Needed someone. Load's too much for one person to carry, at times." 

 

"...you said 'thrice over'. If her martial prowess is so... lacking... then how?"

 

He put the brush aside, turned the finished helmet to face him, and sat down on the dusty dirt floor of the cavern that was Lost Hope.

 

"Big things come in small packages. She may never be one of the greats when it comes to the sword..."

 

He smiled.

 

"...but she excels at aetheric manipulation, and has a talent and potential for conjury the likes of which hasn't been seen by the sultanate in over three generations."

 

 

 

 

The lances speared through the air towards Xydane, only to clash against a sudden hexagonal lattice of blue-white. The steel points rebounded, and the four Elezen staggered as they rocked back on their heels. One of them glanced back and gave a cry; the others turned, as well. She'd been spotted.

 

Kokojo's sword-arm hung at her side, the blade trailing on the ground. Her left hand - raised, palm out - rose further, drew and threw her helmet off. Her hair flowed freely... then rose, billowed, as if a sudden wind had picked up and held.

 

No mage, she, but long before she'd found succor at Stillglade Fane, she had found the Ossuary. She'd be stripping the gears again, doing as she was now, falling from grace, falling from White to Black as she released her grasp on the elemental and turned her focus to her own aether. She reached inward, pulled out the energies she needed, and a flame burst into being in the palm of her hand. She held it up, presented it to the four.

 

"Burn."

 

So they did. Fire rolled over the lattice in broiling waves as the Elezen screamed, wailed. It didn't last long - thaumaturgy wasn't her specialty - but it lasted long enough. She let the protective lattice wall drop as the heat faded, and she gave her knight a gift, presented him with four unguarded backs.

 

That would have to be enough, because her eyes rolled back in her head.

 

Haruko Kokojo collapsed.

[Xydane Vale]

Seeing the opportunity Kokojo had given him, Xydane rushed towards the burning Elezen and slew them one by one, the swift sound of steel through flesh halted the noise of their screams, leaving only the thuds of their bodies falling to the ground.

 

As their charred corpses added to the smoke that was already building inside the room, Xydane tore off his robe and ran towards his unconscious ally, lifting her from the ground and carrying the Lalafell over of his shoulder. Though the air caused him dry and irritating coughs, the knight continued to desperately search for a way outside the burning building.

 

Fire rose higher as more debris began to fall with each waking second. Eyes teary and his body drenched in sweat, Xydane continued to cough as ash and smoke slowly filled his lungs. Breathing was becoming difficult and the smoke created extreme irritation upon the eyes.

 

Moreover, the surrounding did not spare his ears. Echoing through the building was the dying screams of other Elezen who where unfortunate to be caught in the building's collapse. He ignored their cries as he continued searching for an escape.

 

Xydane's vision began to drastically blur and each step felt heavier and heavier. The heat was intensifying while every hallway and room led only to a dead end. Before hope could finally dim, a small hint of light shined weakly past the wall of ash and debris. It was in that moment that the knight could wait no longer. Charging towards the light, Xydane shouldered himself through the fiery debris that stood in his way and crashed into the window, falling outside into a heap of snow. As they fell, the knight twisted in the air, using his own body to shield the Flame Corporal against the landing.

 

[align=center]________________________________________________________________[/align]

 

[align=center]An hour later...[/align]

 

While hiding in the city's shadows, Xydane watched as Ishgardian knights rushed to investigate the building burning in the distance. Once they passed, Xydane brushed his hair back and exhaled with relief. He scanned the area to confirm a clear getaway. With the unconscious Kokojo safely inside his traveling pack, Xydane donned the bundle and continued their escape.

 

After an hour of sneaking his way outside the city, carefully avoiding stationed guards and suspicion, he finally reached the outskirts of The Gates of Judgment. Xydane began to run towards the other Immortal Flames camped nearby.

 

"Hey! I need help!"

[Melkire]

Gregson was none too subtle about plodding through the snow as he hurried over.

 

"What's wrong? Where's the...?"

 

He paused as he reached Vale, as he noted that the knight was still lugging the traveling pack around. He paused for just a moment, then shook his head, murmured an oath under his breath, and lifted the pack's flap, peered inside.

 

"...aw, hells." He half-turned and bellowed up the slope. "COAL!"

 

A smaller than average Hellsguard in Flame uniform lumbered over, saluted. Gregson slowly, carefully drew the pack off Xydane's shoulders, one strap at a time, before passing it off to the Roegadyn with no small amount of effort - Xydane's fellow midlander was anything but built. In point of fact, he almost looked like a twig standing next to the knight. 

 

"Get the corporal to Dragonhead. We can't do much for her here; she needs Ebner."

 

The big Roe nodded as he slipped one burly arm through both straps and held the pack to his chest with his other hand. Then he was off, running down the slope to the east as fast as the trunks that were his legs could carry him.

 

Private First Class Gregson watched them go. He shook his head and sighed.

 

"Not the first time she's pushed herself like that. Not something that should be done. No staff, no rod... pushing herself to go from one to the other like that... she's going to break, one of these days."

 

He frowned, then gestured for Xydane to follow as he slowly made his way back to camp.

 

"Ebner and I - Ebner's our field surgeon - we're the only ones who know. Besides the sergeant and the lieutenant, that is. Most think she can only conjure."

 

His left hand shot up as they approached the campfire, whipped around in a small circle that said, let's go. The few remaining Flames there began packing. Gregson bit down hard on his lower lip.

 

"...someone who might've been Captain Mynhier snuck out the gate a few bells ago. Jekkels spotted him. Sent Ebner ahead to Dragonhead with half the squad to confirm. We'll see what he has to say."

[Xydane Vale]

The thought of the little Lalafell going as far as to the point of breaking impressed Xydane. He was all too familiar with the desperation of going beyond one’s boundaries. He knew the sacrifice; to do anything for the cause, even if it meant putting your life on the line, even if it meant dying in the process. There was a hint of admiration in his eyes as he watched the pack leave with the Hellsgaurd.

 

Xydane turned towards Gregson as his gesture took Xydane’s attention away from the others. “Right,” he nodded, “Lead the way.” Extending his arms to allow Gregson to walk first, Xydane noticed the small hints of burn marks on his own forearm. His cloak had been left behind in the castle after it caught heat and flame – it was most likely burnt along with the rest of the building. The wind slowly began to pick up again and Xydane’s hair blew along with it. He sighed, placing a hand on the sword’s hilt as he followed the other man.

 

“There’s a lot more to her than I thought,” Xydane said with an impressed tone. “When she wakes up, tell her I said thanks for saving my arse.”

 

Xydane did not want to go too close to the campfire. He just escaped a burning building, after all. He was not in any hurry to catch fire once more, he humored himself. Xydane watched the Flames pack as Gregson spoke. "I'm not surprised,” Xydane responded, still watching the Flames, “We didn't find him in there and one of the Elezen confirmed it before he died.” Finally Xydane turns to face Gregson, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder and said, “One thing is for certain: He escaped.”

[Melkire]

The private nodded. "Let's get moving, then." He turned his back to the campfire and gave that flick of his raised wrist again: Let's go. Let's go, go, go.

 

 

 

"Thal's Ball, how many times? 'Corporal, you're an idiot,' I say. 'Quit mucking about with your health,' I say. But does she listen? Noooooooo." The Seeker scrunched up his face and proceeded to squeak out words in a tone and pitch more suited to the Lalafell he was attending. "Turns to me and goes, 'Private, I will do as I must.' 'Private, desperate times call for desperate measures.' Desperate measures? Ha. Demented lunacy, is what I call it."

 

There are two kinds of field surgeons; Private Second Class Niles Ebner was of the sour sort, and it showed. He had stripped the little corporal out of her armor, laid her down on the cot, and tended to her... roughly. Even now, as he leaned over her to administer a potion, he was none too gently about tilting her head back, pinching her cheeks until her mouth opened, pouring the concoction in, and stroking her throat until it went down. 

 

He looked up at Xydane and Gregson, his tail twitching this way and that.

 

"She'll be fine, this time," he spat in an irritated tone, "but she can't keep doing this. I'm a field surgeon, not a white mage of the Padjal." His eyes flickered towards the back of their little chamber here at Dragonhead, where a young hyur midlander stood at attention. "Jekkels can brief you. Leave me to my patient, morons."

 

Gregson rolled his eyes, then led Xydane over to the other private. "Report."

 

A nice, crisp Flame salute. "Sure thing, Karl-- I mean, ser. Yes ser. Um. Was at my post, just due east of the Gates when a cart rolled out, ser. Kept an eye on things, like you asked, and that's why I saw it-- saw him. That's why I saw him. Looked highlander, I think, but, uh... starved... emaciated, that's the word. Long locks, didn't get a good look at the color. Poor bastard looked miserable. Came this way, he did, and you sent Ebner and I and the boys here, and, well...."

 

"Out with it already."

 

"The descriptions match, ser. Mynhier was here, and he headed south bells ago."

 

Gregson glanced over at Xydane. "He's headed home on his own."

[Xydane Vale]

Xydane said nothing as he listened to the private’s report. He turned to Gregson and spoke, nodding towards the direction of the wounded Lalafell. “Make sure she becomes well,” he said, “I’ll take my leave, then.” The Hyur turns and exits.

 

________________________________________________________________

 

Xydane stood leaning against the wall, his arms crossed in front of chest and his hood down as he spoke to the Inquisitor. “The whole thing’s been a complete mess. Not only did the Immortal Flames saw Mynhier but one of the heretics confirmed it before he died. Mynhier has escaped and is on his way back home as we speak.” The air was dark and the room barely lit with a few candles burning here and there. Xydane watched Maulcrioux behind his wooden desk as the Elezen set aside his quill and interlocked his fingers in front of his face.

 

“Very well,” Maulcrioux replied, “You have done well. The political tension during this situation would have erupted into chaos between Ul’dah and Ishgard if something was to happen to Erik Mynhier. Just like what happened with the ‘Faces of Mercy.’ Now that’s Erik is gone, we can now finally focus our attention on internal conflicts.” He paused for a moment, pushing a tilted piece of paper back in place so that the stack on his desk was even and orderly. “Xydane?”

 

“Yeah?” the Hyur replied, his voice slightly echoing off the cobblestone walls.

 

“Those Elezen… what did you find out about them?” Maulcrioux had turned his gaze from the ink and parchment resting on his table, his full attention back to Xydane.

 

“They're not with the assassins and I think this group is working for someone else entirely,” Xydane replied. “Enemies within the city itself.”

 

There was a brief silence before Maulcrioux responded. “… I see. The reports to House Fortemps shall be mine to handle. I’m sure they are eager to know if the problem has been resolved."

 

Xydane nodded in agreement. “Right.”

 

Maulcrioux stood from behind his desk and made his way to the nearest window. He watched the snow blanket the keep in white for a few moments before speaking, his back still turned to the Hyur. “Send word to Césaire and Marcus and tell them to ride back to Dragonhead.”

 

“I was going to see them anyways,” Xydane answered, already halfway to the door.

 

[End of Scene]

Edited February 19, 2021 by Xydane Vale