Author's notes:
It's my first fic in a seriously long time (hence the iffy summary, and potentially iffy formatting. I've forgotten how to use ffnet) so, hurrah?
This is also posted on AO3 under the same title.
Though the story will be told in Aera's perspective (for whom, by the way, I've casted Chloe Bennet...because of my unrepentant love for her), but I didn't want the reader to know everything that Aera knows, right off the bat. Hence the mystery surrounding her, as well as the circumstances of her encounter with Nyx.
I like stringing my readers along ;)
so, enjoy!
Broken. It's a cliched descriptor, so plain in meaning-but so apt to describe what has become of this city. So many buildings have crumbled, homes fallen into ruin; but it's the people, too. Insomnia had been so vibrant, with its bright lights and deep shadows, with its diversity of people and life.
Now, it's awash in grey.
"Welcome back to the land of the living, soldier." Her companion's voice pulls her gaze away from the narrow window, and she lets the curtain fall back into place. Attention drifts almost lazily to Rangi, his expression the picture of tranquility as he helps their previously unconscious patient sit up from the bed.
"...what…?" Brows draw together, eyes looking slightly clouded still with the remnants of sleep. "Am I still...in Insomnia?" Aera watches him scan the modest apartment, drowsiness very quickly chased away by brevity.
Rangi nods, grief seeping into his expression for only a brief moment. "Yes. What's left of it. But-don't worry." He gestures to the locked door, barricaded by furniture. "It's safe...relatively speaking."
From the opposite side of the bachelor apartment, the fourth inhabitant, Lyra, shifts from the couch. She affords Aera a quick glance before moving to the kitchen to fetch their patient a water bottle.
"It won't stay that way for much longer." Aera's voice almost startles their guest, as he'd apparently not noticed her before. His brows knot together, and Aera holds his gaze only for a moment before nodding to the window beside her. Rangi's basement apartment doesn't leave much room for views outside; this narrow window only affords them a small glimpse of the ground above the apartment, and one of the streets beyond. But it's enough. "Magitek troopers; two of them. It looks like they're patrolling a set route."
Lyra shakes her head. "But the king is dead and they took the Crystal; Niflheim has what it wants. Why are its troops still here?"
The question seems to cause the Kingsglaive to deflate a little, but Aera ignores him as she jumps off the top of Rangi's built-in shelving. Her landing is near silent, and she pauses only to straighten her shirt.
"The complete destruction and annihilation of Insomnia's citizens is probably their way of tying up loose ends." It's said in a neutral tone and expression, but Aera can hardly contain the anger that thrums beneath her skin.
"That doesn't surprise me." Each syllable is punctuated by bitterness, and considering the state in which Aera found the Glaive-and under the assumption that it was the Empire who'd put him in such a state-no one can blame him. "So...you guys can't leave?" Brows dip again, gaze lowering into a furtive look.
"Damage from the attack made most of the buildings unstable." A short pause, barely enough to garner attention from the Glaive, but long enough that Aera notices. Her breath catches in her throat, eyes intent on the teenager until Lyra seems to regain her composure. "Between that, the panic, and Imperial forces filling the streets, maybe staying here was the safest thing to do."
"We couldn't just leave you behind," Rangi adds in a voice he means to be reassuring, although the soldier doesn't look terribly convinced. "We'd be no better than the empire...or the looters." His jaw tightens, the muscles of his back tensing as though in remembrance of a brawl. He's made these allusions before, though neither Aera nor Lyra asked him about it. While they're not friends-only survivors bound together by a mutual need for safety in numbers and companionship-they at least had enough tact to let the man tend to his wounds in peace.
"In any case," Aera's voice seems to dim the tension in Rangi's body language, "we should start preparing for an actual departure."
"He just woke up from a three-day coma, you can't expect him to be up and running just yet." There's no hostility in Rangi's voice, though his expression is tentative and uncertain. The three of them have established some level of trust in the last few days; it's difficult not to, having gone through what they had together. Yet Aera's not oblivious to the apparent unease she sometimes incites in Rangi. While his quiet is borne of his tranquil nature, Aera's quiet is guarded, a mask that seems to veil her intentions.
"Actually, as far as I can tell, he's fine." They'd left Lyra to examine the unconscious Kingsglaive, assuming she's the most apt to do so. And aside from some relatively minor, superficial wounds, she'd not found any reason for his unconscious state.
The knowledge of that reason is something Aera intends to keep to herself.
"I feel fine," the soldier himself admits, clearly to Rangi's mild chagrin.
"He'll have the time to get himself up to speed," Aera continues, tone sounding as though she's simply waving off the matter. "It could be more difficult to leave now that there's fewer people to keep imperial attention off of us." It's a morbid thought, but one that the others seem to have as well. Looters and those who revel in lawlessness attempted to seize the city following the night of the siege, but it was clear by that evening that the city still does not belong to them. It seems that only the mechanical march of Magitek troopers break the silence of Insomnia now. "We'll also want to make sure we're prepared once we make it outside of the city."
If they make it outside of the city. Rangi may be a formidable foe when spurred, but he's never been trained in combat. And Lyra's affinity is for the sciences, for learning and knowledge, more than for war. Even if the Kingsglaive is to aid them, could they so easily make it out of Insomnia in one piece?
"Aera's right. We'll need provisions for both the journey out of the city, and beyond that. Not to mention weapons." It's clear that Lyra has given their escape more thought than Rangi might have.
He looks reluctant, but Rangi nods, shoulders heaving with an exhaustive sigh.
"Weapons...I might be able to find you some." The Glaive shifts, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. He takes a moment to stretch, testing the stability of his limbs before he stands. "It's the least I can do."
Aera watches him, appraising his earnest expression as though searching for lies. She meets his gaze when he turns to her, and finds that-unless he is more skilled in the art of lying than she is-his offer to help is genuine. Though her expression remains guarded, Aera nods. "You know where the Kingsglaive armoury is."
"Yeah, but it won't be easy getting in. It's close to the Citadel, and-"
"Any higher ranking imperial officials left in Insomnia have likely gathered there. Which means they'll be surrounded by Magitek guards."
She catches Rangi's deep frown in the periphery of her vision. "It's too dangerous. The weapons would only be a precaution; it's not enough to risk your life over." Shaking his head, Rangi crosses his arms over his chest. "We haven't needed any weapons yet."
Yet is the key word. They might have been able to make their way back to Rangi's apartment with little trouble, but that was at the peak of chaos. The streets are likely near empty now, and anyone bold enough to travel through them would be in perfect view of any Magitek patrols. "I know you're not naive enough to believe we won't run into any trouble, Rangi."
Aera takes quiet note of the Glaive's expression as he watches their exchange, the way he's glancing between the both of them with a look of contemplation on his face. As far as she knows, the Kingsglaive had been dispatched to rescue Lady Lunafreya from an Imperial vessel; it had, of course, been a means to get the king's superpowered army out of Insomnia. Which of course, begs the question of why this soldier remained in the city. And why he was brought back from the beyond.
"I'm not. But I stand by what I said; it's not worth risking anyone's life."
Her expression softens a little, ears catching on the quiet resignation in Rangi's voice and the way his brows twist together into a look of concern. She remembers the look of mourning with which he gazed upon the ruins of the city, and though he hasn't spoken of any of his family or friends, Aera can aptly assume he has many, and he still worries for them.
"He's not going alone. And I've gotten myself through a lot worse." Voice drops to a softer tone, hand resting on Rangi's arm as though to reassure him. "I can't leave you or Lyra defenseless if things go awry-which they likely will."
Still, Rangi shakes his head. "We might find something along the way. And besides, I don't even know how to wield any weapons, Aera. I'm more likely to hurt myself than to do any good."
Her attention jumps to the Kingsglaive. "Are there trainee weapons, too? Something easier to handle?"
The man hesitates, his gaze shifting between her and Rangi as though trying to decide whose side to take. His nod is slow and a little reluctant. "The wooden weapons we use to train with aren't going to do much. There are some batons though."
Aera's nod is much more resolute. "Good. That should suffice." She shoots Rangi a pointed look before he could protest, but frowns when she notices Lyra's contemplative silence. Her head cants as she looks at the younger girl, silently asking.
The response she receives is only a small nod. "A baton would be good. As long as I can swing it like a baseball bat."
"How mean's your swing?" The corners of her lips quirk into some semblance of a smile, widening when Lyra seems to straighten with pride.
"Meanest on my team." They both skillfully sidestep the bitter nostalgia associated with such a statement. "The MTs are mostly machinery. Sturdy machinery, but a hard enough swing at the legs should incapacitate them."
Rangi doesn't look convinced, but even he knows when the argument's lost. "If it gets too bad, you hightail out of there, okay? Forget the weapons."
"It won't, but if it does, we will. Alright?" It seems to placate Rangi to hear that, and satisfied, she turns to the Glaive. "When will you be up and running?"
Brows raised, the soldier tests his limbs, hopping on the spot and trying his balance. "Right now, apparently." The surprise is evident in both voice and expression, accompanied by wonder and confusion. The severity of his condition must not have been lost on the soldier.
"We'll head out after sundown, then. There'll be better cover." She's been able to confirm that Magitek soldiers' sight only marginally enhanced when compared to a normal human's, though they do appear to be equipped with more advanced auditory receptors. In any case, Aera feels much more comfortable under the cover of the night, where she can the Glaive, clothed in black, could at least hide in the shadows.
"Sounds good." Though his tone is casual, there's no mistaking the resolve nor the briskness. He's accepting a mission, and it's as though Aera is his commander. The thought worries her; she much prefers working alone-or at most, with a partner. But a subordinate is perhaps a little too much responsibility.
"And we're going to leave the city tomorrow?" Lyra's stood from the couch, leaning instead against the wall beside the shelving with her arms crossed. She has her appraising stare fixed on the Glaive, likely trying to determine if he's really fit to head towards the Citadel tonight.
"If we're ready to." Aera nods to the kitchen, where containers of non-perishable foods have been stacked neatly on the counter. "Can you ration the food, figure out how much we have and how much we'll need?"
The teenager nods. "I'll take stock of medical supplies, too."
"I'm going to see if there's any way to contact some of my friends outside of the city. Maybe they can pick us up somewhere." It's the first mention that Rangi's made of any of his friends, and Aera can't help but feel some relief that at least some of his loved ones might have escaped the Empire's wrath.
She nods, before motioning to the Glaive. "I'll need you to give me the route and the layout of the armory and the nearby area. I don't intend to go in there blind."
The stranger nods, looking slightly impressed if not reluctant to be leading whom he likely assumes is a civilian into danger. The city of Insomnia hasn't faced much adversity for many years, so Aera supposes their efficiency might come as a bit of a surprise. But she's seen what ordinary people can be capable of when under duress; Aera's only glad that both Lyra and Rangi are the sort to deal with the crisis first, and the emotional fallout later.
Both Rangi and Lyra separate to tend to their tasks, and Aera motions towards the small dining table. The wooden surface is veiled by a myriad of rough sketches; maps drawn from memory of potential routes outside of the city. The Glaive follows, exhaling with a low whistle at the organized chaos on paper.
Aera seats herself, motioning to the chair across from her. "Let's hope your…episode hasn't affected your memory. I'm going to need as much detail as you can provide."
"I'll do my best." He flashes her a cocky smile, one that's marred by the ever-present unease that accompanies the destruction of one's home.
Deft fingers close around the pencil, its tip hovering over a blank sheet of paper when Aera pauses. "We never got to introduce ourselves." Go figure that something so mundane would be lost in the urgency of their situation, and Aera can't ignore the little bitter twist in her gut. It's a reminder that nothing will ever be the same again.
"That's Rangi," she starts, with a nod in the aforementioned man's direction. The muscles of his arms bulked and strained as he carried the camping equipment from one of his back rooms, dark, olive skin turning a tad flush with effort. "This is his apartment. And that's Lyra," and a wave towards the teenager with her dark curls and wide, observant eyes, "she's the one who noticed you were still breathing." Or at least, she was the one who brought it to Rangi's attention-because the Glaive wasn't breathing when Aera first noticed him. "I'm Aera."
The Glaive responds with a polite nod. "Nyx. Nyx Ulric."