A/N: Hi readers!
This story serves, somewhat, as a companion to Perfectflyer's Valkyrie. (It's a really exciting story, you should check it out!)
This story follows Rhodri, the studious Machina anthropologists that is always bothering Teanna. This series of oneshots takes place well before they end Xenoblade Chronicles, closer to the Battle of Sword Valley.
I kindly donated Rhodri to Perfectflyer's story, and I am happy to finally debut him myself!
Please enjoy. :D
The sand glinted lightly in the moonlight, and my boots slid slightly with each step. This was my favorite time of day. The moon had almost completely risen and the light of the sun was just peeking over the boundless waves of Endless Sea. It was the moment the night and the day coalesced into the short-lived, yet enchanting, twilight. Most Machina retired to the colony in the evening, leaving the beaches barren and quiet.
Tonight, I needed the quiet. The people of the Fallen Arm often left me feeling suffocated. Even amongst the other scholars in my colony, my devotion to edification was misunderstood. It seemed that no one could appreciate that I found comfort in the printed word, not the comfort of another person. I had never had that luxury in my youth, but I had a suspicion I was not missing much.
I shuffled around a colossal and misshapen metal shard, one of the many littering the beach. Fallen refuse from the Bionos and Mechonis found its way onto my home island. The beaches of the Fallen Arm were scattered with wreckages of spent Mechon bodies or warped Homs contraptions. The thought of the many races living high above me filled me with wonder. I longed to see the marvelous wonders of the Bionis that I had only read about in dusty old tomes. As I watched, the stars began to glitter enticingly around the shadowy forms of the frozen giants. I stared deeply into the shadows of the behemoths for a long while.
The sound of the lapping tide brought me out of my reverie. The glow of my internal flow of ether lightly illuminated the beach around me. I noticed the glimmer of a shell washed in by the waves. I bent and dislodged it from the sands. To my surprise, it was a piece of armor only lightly tarnished by the ocean water. I laid it back into the sand. It likely belonged to a Defense Force soldier who had fallen onto the island during the Battle of Sword Valley.
A twitch of movement along the shore caught my attention. A little ways from me, lay the form of a Homs. A halo of blood surrounded her in the sand. Without much thought, I skidded along the sand towards her. Nearing her bloody visage, I hesitated. From what I could see, the Homs girl was dead. Her cheek was pressed into the sand, while half of her body was still in the water. The blood around her seemed never ending and her skin was bluish from overexposure to the cold sea. Yet, as I watched, I saw her body rise with a shallow intake of breath.
I glanced around the empty beach, looking for someone who could do something. For moment, I considered leaving her. She would surely die soon anyway; I could do to stop the inevitable. Yet… something told me that I should at least try. It was what anyone would deserve in their last moments. I covered the remaining distance between use and wrung my hands nervously, unsure what to do next. I remembered reading once that an injured person should not be moved before assessing their wounds.
I inspected her body, but there were no wounds on her back. However, the blood pooling around her had to have a source. Being as delicate as I could, I rolled her onto her back. I immediately found the source of the blood. A flurry of gashes began on the side neck and ran almost all the way down to her hips. Her entire shoulder was in ribbons and disfigured by burns. I noticed that the shoulder guard on the unmarred shoulder matched the one in the sand. The wounds were a ghastly color, even in the low light I could see the infection caused by the poisoned water of the sea. I looked away from the oozing wounds. I had only confirmed my suspicions; this Homs chance of survival was grim.
I pulled her into my arms, taking care not to jostle her too much. I resolutely decided that I would still take her to Linada; I had no right to decide if a person lived or died. I hurried off the sand towards the colony. The girl let out a soft whimper and I slowed down my pace. Her long eyelashes fluttered and her eyes opened for a moment. The color of eyes was the deep, navy blue of dusk, just before the sun completely disappears and the sky turns black. She let out a breath, almost a word, before her consciousness completely faded. I felt a rush of confusion and dread. With new determination, I rushed back to the colony.
I only realized upon later inspection of the memory that she had said only two words:
"Thank you."