AN: Hi everyone! I wanted to put the rating of this story back down to T (since it really isn't an M unless you read the original first chapter) but I also didn't want to completely remove Prophecies and Pornos because it is what started this entire fic. So, I have rearranged the chapters slightly. Nothing else has been changed :) Enjoy!
The Companion Diaries
A little background info, for those interested:
Main Character: Female Hyur; Kotori Thanatos; Bard/Archer/Conjurer
Companion: Male Elezen; Krios Archangel; Dragoon/Lancer/Pugilist
A Grave Error in Judgement
She was tiny. Possibly the smallest Hyur he'd ever seen. How in the seven Hells had he been paired up with this puny, fragile...thing? She had to be a third of his height, if that.
It wasn't even that she was so damned small. Well, that wasn't the only issue.
She was a bard. A bloody songstress. What could she do in battle, sing their enemies to death? It was true, if an imperial were to break into song on the battlefield, he would most likely find himself too stunned to do much damage. But the shock would wear off momentarily, and then there would be nothing to stop him from splitting said imperial open, his entrails displayed for all to see.
The fate of all of Eorzea rested on him, and he was stuck with a bloody entertainer. The Gods were surely having a good laugh at his expense.
Upon first meeting his new partner, the girl, whatever her name was, had smiled shyly at him and offered a slender hand. Her leathers squeaked slightly with the movement. Well, at least she had enough brains in that puny skull to don some armour. Grudgingly - he may not think her a suitable soldier, but as he had no say in the matter it was best to keep their relationship as cordial as possible - he grasped her hand firmly in his own and gave it a swift shake. He was surprised to find her grip was strong, not gentle and flimsy as he'd expected. He'd introduced himself, they'd signed the ledger together, and off they went on their first mission.
And so, here they were, trudging through the Black Shroud forest as silently as possible. Their task was a simple one: meet up with a scouting regimen, receive their intel and report back to HQ. According to recent reports, there had been a group of Garleans traveling through Gridania recently. The two of them were nowhere near the area they'd been moving towards, but neither of them wanted to take the chance.
He had to admit - even if it was only to himself - that his new partner was probably a good choice for this mission. While he was no blunderer himself, she was agile and swift in a way that could only have come from years of training. She moved with a certain grace that he couldn't help but admire; drifting like smoke, as if her feet never truly touched the ground but ghosted across it, never crunching down upon a potentially treacherous leaf or snapping a stray twig. She was short enough that she didn't have to worry much about the branches here, though to be fair neither did he, for the trees stretched impossibly high above them, their leaves forming a dark green canopy that almost completely blotted out the night sky. Still, he could see from watching her that they wouldn't have posed a problem; on the contrary, she might have found them entertaining. She seemed to be enjoying herself as it was - hopping lithely over a puddle twice her length, she turned and flashed him a small grin. Her hair, near black in the darkness, swayed gently, just brushing past her chin as she inclined her head to the side, waiting.
He stepped over it easily, careful not to stomp on anything that would give away their location. He gestured for her to continue and after a small nod, she turned away from him, disappearing further into the dark forest.
The sun was beginning to rise when they finally reached their destination; Krios could just make out the orange tinge to bits of sky between the infinite amount of leaves hanging over them.
"It should be just ahead," the girl spoke softly into the silence, and when he shot her a questioning look she smiled knowingly. "You can smell the campfire smoke."
He paused, sniffing the air to find that she was right; it was strong, much heavier than he'd expected a few campfires to give off, but that might have been because of their closeness. He nodded once, and the two of them continued forward in silence. Until,
"You don't like me, do you?"
They were walking side by side, so he had to turn and look quite far down to see her expression. She didn't look angry or upset; with her bright green eyes, and her full lips pulling up at the corners, she looked to be quite amused.
He wanted to roll his eyes. If she was concerned about such mundane things as making friends, they were even more of a mismatch than he'd thought.
"That," he spoke, his tone emotionless, his face a mask of imperviousness, "is irrelevant." He turned away from her, staring ahead in search of the allied encampment. "Whether I like you or not is of no importance to the mission."
"That," she spoke in a low, masculine voice, and he realized with a start that she was attempting to imitate him, "was not what I asked."
He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, to find her face deadly serious. As he stared, however, her lips started to tremble, that twinkle in her eye uncontrollable. Still, she fought valiantly, her entire mouth twitching, the corners jerking up sporadically until he rolled his eyes and let out a small huff of exasperation.
"I would not say that I did not like you," he answered, meeting her attempt at seriousness with his own. "We have yet to spend the better half of a fortnight together. I do not know you enough to decide such things."
There was finality in his tone, a dismissiveness that he hoped was enough of a warning for the girl to stop pestering him. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to care. Apparently being unable to speak for an entire evening had left her bursting at the seams for a conversation.
"That may be so," she assented, walking along cheerfully beside him, her hands clasped behind her back. "But there's something about me that bothers you. I can tell."
"Perhaps it is your insistence on pestering me with pointless remarks." He was growing irritated with this line of questioning. He neither liked nor disliked the girl. He simply believed - with good damn reason - that she was ill suited to be a warrior of any sort. A bard belonged in caverns and places of festivity, not in a potential warzone. Now, however, was not exactly the time to be discussing the matter.
She opened her mouth to fire off another retort, but whatever she would have said died in her throat. She stared past him, her eyes wide in shock, a small gasp escaping her.
He turned quickly, one hand swinging behind him to grab his lance. He soon realized, however, that the time for fighting had passed.
They'd come upon a clearing, allied tents and makeshift campfires having been set up long ago. This was the encampment, the spot where they were supposed to be meeting up with other members of the guild. At least, this was what was left of it.
Everything was destroyed, burnt to ash and soot. He'd thought the scent of smoke had been thick earlier; standing in the clearing, it was as if someone had stuffed soot up his very nostrils. He could taste it on his tongue.
His lance grasped firmly in his gloved hands, he turned to his partner. She had her bow at her side, an arrow already notched, her mouth drawn into a grim line. They moved forward slowly, eyes scanning the area for either friend or foe. The flames had long since died out, the fact that they hadn't spread to the surrounding forest making him inclined to the idea that it had been mage-fire.
"I think they've been and gone already," Kotori murmured as they reached the centre of the encampment. The smell was the worst here, for there was something other than smoke and ash in the air, something akin to the smell of cooked meat. "The flames have all but disappeared."
"We should search for survivors." Swinging his lance back over his shoulder, Krios began making his way through the rubble, wondering if it would be more of a blessing not to find anyone still alive.
The group stationed here hadn't been large, a rough 10 or 15 members. It was possible that a good chunk of them were out on patrol during the attack, and the others could have gotten out before it was too late.
The smell of burnt flesh filling the air begged to differ.
He saw a glint of metal a few feet from him; shifting forward, he lifted as much rubble from the area as he could, unburying a possible survivor. "Hold on," he urged, carefully removing piece after piece of wood to prevent a collapse. "I'm almost there." He managed to remove the largest pieces, enough to uncover the fallen soldier.
It was a Mi'qote, her soft pink ears scorched near black, poking out of the rubble. Her eyes were closed, a thick burn ravaging one side of her face. Leaning forward, he could make out the thick rasps of breathing. As gently as was possible, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her against him as he stepped away from the rubble. She was small, no larger than a child and even with a heavy suit of armour he managed to carry her with ease.
"Kotori!" He shouted as he lay her on the ground in the centre of the camp. "Tell me you can do something for her." He'd heard rumours before that some bards were talented conjurers, and that white magic was one of their stronger skills.
The girl was at his side in an instant, kneeling to place her hands almost reverently on the Mi'qote's forehead. "She's severely injured, but I can help." Closing her eyes, she brought one hand to her chest. A sudden wind picked up, blowing her dark blue hair this way and that, a faint bluish glow encompassing her. She opened her eyes, placing her hand in front of her, facing the girl. "It won't be enough to fix everything," she sighed, turning her green gaze to his, "but she'll survive long enough for us to get her proper treatment."
Already, he could hear the girl's ragged breathing becoming more steady. "Did you find anyone?"
A dark look crossed her face, and she stood, turning away. Shoulders tight, she shook her head. "No survivors."
He didn't miss her meaning. He opened his mouth to say something, try to offer words of comfort, but was interrupted by a sharp shriek. They both turned to see the Mi'qote girl writhing, hysterical, her eyes wide and full of fear.
"We can't get out!" She screamed, clawing at her face in terror, "I can't breathe. It's everywhere. Everyone's burning." Kotori ran to her side, prying her hands away from her face. The girl turned her terror-filled eyes on her, but didn't see her. Her mind was miles away, replaying the attack. "I'm burning. Oh gods, we're all burning alive!"
"Shh, you're safe now," Kotori soothed, but the girl was beyond consoling. Feeling utterly useless, Krios could only watch as she screamed in agony, reliving the death she'd narrowly escaped.
And then, he heard it. It was a soft, beautiful sound, like wind chimes blowing in a warm breeze. He turned to his partner, his mouth open in surprise.
She was singing.
Clasping the Mi'qote girl's hands in her own, her eyes shut, she sang. There were no words to the song, only a soft harmony that left him feeling utterly at peace. The girl had stopped screaming, her movements stilled as her eyes settled on Kotori's small form, seeing her past the memories of the fire.
"Are you...an angel?" She whispered, tears spilling freely from her eyes, leaving trails through the ash covering her face. "Am I dead?"
Kotori didn't answer, instead continuing the sweet rhythm until the girl shut her eyes and relaxed, her breathing slowing until she succumbed to sleep. Laying her hands gently across her chest, Kotori smiled before standing up.
"We best get her to Gridania. You don't mind carrying her, do you?" She turned to him, inclining her head in surprise when he simply stared at her. "What?"
"Nothing." He managed, bristling slightly. He gently scooped the girl into his arms once more, nodding for his partner to take the lead.
Well, he supposed, watching Kotori maneuver her way through the forest with ease. Maybe bards weren't so bad after all. Not that he was going to admit that to anyone but himself, of course.
Fin