Chapter Six – Eleven Ways in Which to Lose Faith

Even though Dalamud's proximity has effectively stopped all forms of weather throughout Eorzea, the following day is miserable nonetheless. A thick sea mist is drowning the lower level of the city, covering everything in a shroud of salted drizzle. Even on higher levels the air is moist and unpleasant to breathe, driving most tourists and non-local merchants indoors.

Rose and Kit are at their eleventh symbol, Llymlaen the Navigator. The curved blue icon, reminiscent of ocean waves, is carved into a marble plinth, which in turn is set into a fountain. Soaring atop the highest point is a crystal seagull, representing the free-flying spirit of all Lominsans and their origins beside the sea. Since they were drafted into duty by their Grand Companies only a day ago, both adventurers are dressed for battle in disciplines of their choice.

Rose wears the light armour of a dragoon, finely crafted from the purest drakeskin. Legs and feet are clad in dark adamantium scale mail - hard like diamond, but light as a feather – hands protected by rigid, lightweight gauntlets. Her head is ensconced in a helm much like a drake's crown; purple-scaled and with fluting horns billowing from the back. Kit Hallym, master blacksmith and armourer, is the artisan responsible for such beautiful and defensive works of art.

He, on the other hand, is dressed lightly as a black mage. Every piece of equipment a mage wears is designed specifically to facilitate spellcasting and focus mental faculties. Gemstones imbued with elemental power adorn the Midlander's wrists and hands, enhancing every iota of magical potency he might wield.

"I'm beginning to think this is all a waste of time," Rose sighs as she kneels before Llymlaen's symbol and traces one finger along the shimmering blue.

"We don't know yet, darling. Archon Louisoix will be able to tell us more when we return to Gridania. I honestly doubt he'd have sent us on this journey when he knows we don't believe in the gods and that we're unlikely to change our minds."

"I just..." Rose rises from the ground and turns to face her partner. "I hoped, you know? Didn't expect one of the gods to appear in front of us and grant our wishes, but I wanted something to happen. A sign to banish the darkness from my heart. Maybe even a sense of security, a reassurance that Dalamud isn't going to fall out of the sky tomorrow and burn us all to ash. We need conviction that we have the ability to change our fate."

She walks to the edge of the platform and gazes north at the great marauders' ship, the Astalicia, barely visible in amongst the fog. In Rose's stomach stirs an ill feeling. The more she thinks about their blighted future, the more it spreads until she can hardly breathe. Sometimes, the weight of hopelessness is a crushing burden to bear.

Continuing on, Rose looks out to sea. "Those who survive will have to live in a wasteland of death, struggling to scrape a life from whatever's left. We have to try and save Eorzea, so that … future generations will have something to inherit."

She starts to cry and Kit moves to comfort her. Frustrated at the barrier of protection separating them, he pulls off her helm and drops it with a clatter, sliding his arms around her armour-clad waist. Rose tries to embrace him. She loses patience at the tough scale on her hands as it restricts her movement, so she unclips the gauntlets and throws them to the floor.

"I love you Rose," Kit says, staring into her tear-soaked eyes. "I won't let anything happen to you, I promise. I'm right here with you, fighting alongside for our future. For everything we made together."

"Kit..." The Elezen sobs into his shoulder for a long time. Kit holds her tight, strokes gloved hands down silky scarlet hair and feels every shudder of breath, every anguished cry along with her. He has to be strong, no matter what it takes.

"Two more, okay?" he says after she's calmed down a little. Rose sighs deeply, nods. The Midlander wipes away her tears and strokes fingers through scarlet hair, tucking it gently behind his love's pointed ears. "We're saving the best till last apparently. Since Yami needs time to rest up, we can spend a few days in Limsa and relax. Sound good to you?"

"Yeah. Alright." Rose rests herself against Kit's forehead and takes a deep breath. "I saw Matlock and Somello earlier in the market wards. We're meeting them for dinner tonight, since they insisted."

"Oh really. Tonight?" Kit asks, his voice piqued with interest. Rose half hums, half sighs in acquiescence at his question. "Hmm. I guess I'll have to cancel that huge romantic gesture I had planned for us then. Dinner by the sea, a stroll along the pier at midnight and then back to our inn room with the bed covered in rose petals. It's okay though. We can do it another night."

Rose pulls back and stares at him with a torn expression, not knowing quite what to say. She had just presumed they'd be free and agreed, but perhaps she should have checked. Opening her mouth to speak, Kit grins and squeezes her around the waist, as much as he can through diamond-hard drakeskin and thinly-tanned peiste leather.

"It's so much fun to tease you," the Midlander says and kisses her before she can get too angry at him.

"You're mean," Rose sighs.

"Sometimes. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, but that did sound nice. The rose petals and such." Kit smiles at the disappointed tone in her voice and remarks that she shouldn't dismiss the idea of it happening just yet.