Primogenitor

Chapter Thirteen

His shoulders hurt.

Even in the coldness they burned like fire.

Breathing in, he swung his lance a few times before he stabbed out.

Howbeit he was just since one day an official Lancer, 'Midge' had already practiced a lot under Alberic's dourly supervision. Until yesterday's dinner-time, the sympathetic but perfectionist Hyur was pushing Midgardsormr nonstop. To an extent, where attention for the four newcomer-Dragoons vanished almost into nothingness; caused by the man's grim eagerness to show his newest pupil as much as possible. Albeit the teaching-method was harsh and unforgiving... its effectiveness was undeniable. It utilized the whole body – and matched so the need of improvement.

There was still a disadvantage... Thanks to this experience, sleeping last night in his usual arm-chair made the disguised dragon almost wish for giving in and resting by Cecilia's side... Laying down; stretching every limb out. Maybe placing his head next to the maiden's, so that the muted sound of her breath would sooth him... He had rejected the temptation, but was worried if the future could sooner or later change his mind...

Today didn't differ much from before.

Despite several tasks which prevented all teacher-activities, Alberic had already begged a colleague at Whitebrim to oversee in lieu of him 'Midge's' training. Mentioned man – an Elezen who worked these days in Central Coerthas' northern half – was like the famous Dragoon another former pupil. Not as narcissistic as Estinien, but similar cynical. Meeting him in the early morning didn't brighten Midgardsormr's conscience to be compelled to this unwanted carrier.

Yet, a serious tutor who distracted the Methuselah was welcome.

A fortiori his mind was focused, the less his aching heart consumed him.

Following this philosophy, the ancient being did well behaved all exercises which were demanded. Seeking for the road of a serious guardian. One who was able to shield his most precious being. Though he couldn't deny, that his vessel wasn't ideal for diving headfirst into sportive activities...

Noontime granted his tense muscles finally a break.

Sighing, 'Midge' went into the building he was allowed to use for recreation, and took a seat.

The food-box Erik had prepared for the dragon in the morning lay still untouched on the dinning-table in front of him. The simple memory of the Marauder's nasty grin made Midgardsormr shiver. Malicious joy had lurked underneath the innocent happiness about another 'proof' for Erik's theory... Tss, the Methuselah was not at all convinced of being a useful tool for ending the war between men and dragons... Even though he DID act as if he was on mortal's side, there was no way he would ever support any further slaying of his own kind. So, only Cecilia's candid path to seek for a peaceful solution possessed his complete acceptance.

When Midgardsormr opened the box, muted steps distracted him.

"Apologies to disturb you." ,a shy voice reached his ears, "I was asked to bring you a warm meal. Erik paused his current job despite the trouble it caused for him in order to optimize your lunch." Looking up, he watched as Tataru placed a box similar to the one he got onto the desk. "Thy gesture is welcome... I thank thee." His words made her smile in jollity.

Before 'Midge' was able to, the Lalafell opened swiftly the cap; showcasing a large portion of steaming stew. Albeit he was sure the sandwiches in the other box would suffice, his growling stomach seemed to have its own opinion. But there was even more than just this...

"I hope the dessert will be fine... I made the vanilla-pudding and chocolate-sauce myself, you know. Although we're not knowing each other for a long while, I feel like the two of us share the liking for sweet dishes." the Scion's secretary explained giggling.

Midgardsormr didn't know how to handle this sign of consideration solely meant for him.

Especially not, after he had once uncovered his fangs with a hiss when Tataru was trying to pat him. Ready to bite her just because she had only a friendly gesture in mind... But she wasn't connecting this memory with the man next to her. Officially, Cecilia's favorite dragon-puppet had always been nothing else than a lovely toy. And with the maiden being unconscious, the doll's nonstop absence made sense for the Lalafell, as none other could summon the archmage's belongings.

It would only confuse Tataru if he acted now... strange. Therefore, he accepted the gift politely: "This is very generous of thee. It will be a pleasure to eat thy present." Jolly, the motherly Lalafell – for her kind probably a very small lady – nodded with a bright grin: "Hehe, good to hear you like it! You know, I was worried if the dessert wouldn't be appropriate. Since, uhm, you seem always so uncomfortable around strangers."

Raising the brows in confusion, Midgardsormr couldn't help but let the mask of seriousness slip minimal down: "How come thou art able to see this?" "Maybe a woman's intuition." ,she replied, "Albeit I got some help. It's so... Edgar acts similar awkward towards foreigners – and just like you, he demonstrates a big heart once he got to know someone. Doesn't matter, that only Ceci is allowed to ride him. He is a cute birdie who reserves true friendliness for his favorites, while others just get to see politeness. And so are you."

Midgardsormr smiled embarrassed. This secretary was an attentive mortal. She was much smarter, than others might think via first impressions. Her strength was definitely not combat but socializing. With less discomfort in his chest he noticed chuckling: "There is one detail I would like to add... The Chocobo is quite possessive in consideration of his master. Jealous, so to speak... A direful trait I hope to not possess."

While he started to eat the stew with an ordinary spoon, Tataru took a seat on the table's other side. "I think it's normal to experience jealousy." ,the Lalafell stated, "At least when something is really dear to the heart. Edgar simply feels what he feels plus acts the way his feelings tell him to express. If his behavior puts pressure on you because you fear to resemble the birdie... You shouldn't be too strict with yourself. Also, don't forget that your situation isn't normal. While you're all the time worried about Cecilia's state of health, extra possessiveness would be logical."

Chewing easygoing down, 'Midge' grinned boldly. "Thou art truly comparing me to a Chocobo... Does this ridiculousness mean, that thou won't treat me anymore like a hero?" "U-Uhm, no! Well, ehrm, I mean... That's a bit difficult to explain... Ahem..." the Lalafell stuttered perplexed. "It's fine, do not worry." ,he cut her short with an amused mien, "My execrable humor was overwhelming me for a moment... Apologies. But if I am allowed to utter something honestly... I prefer to be no hero in the eyes of people. I want to be treated like a normal man. Nothing special; nothing worthless. Just... another adventurer."

The Lalafell studied him curious with these big amethyst-eyes. "How come you find it necessary to insist on normality?" ,she asked patiently, "Does our attention scare you? Because you think that you did only something everybody else would have done for Ceci? And does it make you nervous to work suddenly together with strangers? In a foreign place, above all?"

Slightly, he laughed – relaxed by her observation-skills. "Thou art correct. I am no hero for doing just the right thing. And having to adjust to this land appears occasionally to be impossible for me. Thus, I am unsettled and would prefer less attention." Scratching her right ear, Tataru questioned: "But when you don't like it, why do you even stay with us in Coerthas? Do any of Ul'Dah's hideous bounty-hunter threaten you just the way they are strengthening as us? After all, you're a gatherer who seems to prefer a warm environment."

"If it was for myself, probably I would decide indeed to follow another path than thou all art doing." ,the dragon admitted, "But I have no decision to make; to begin with an answer to thy question. There is not such a thing like a choice for me. The place where I stay is set in stone." The amethyst-eyes made a dreamily expression as their owner listened to him. "Aww, you really are a sweetheart! I'm really glad Ceci found one so loyal." the Lalafell hummed widely beaming.

Midgardsormr gave also a smile, before he continued eating.

It was odd to think that, but... He grew fond of this Lalafell. Not like Cecilia thought of Alphinaud, of course... Yet, it was enough to honestly enjoy her presence. Her petite shape was ironically soothing his draconic instincts; the gentle friendliness of hers not as aggressive as the admiration of Ishgard's most simple inhabitants. She was in her own way very sensitive plus clearly smart – deserving the position of a favorite non-adventurer.

Hah... Another moment Cecilia's opinion about dragons preferring female mortals was correct.

He couldn't help but smirk unrecognizable about that.

When only the dessert was left, he took under notedly observant gazes of the secretary the first bite. His eyes widened while his throat swallowed the soft vanilla-chocolate-mix, which his tongue gave only unwilling away, down. "Delicious..." he stated – surprised, how good Tataru's pudding tasted. It reminded him of the day Cecilia had shared such a thing with him; the hilarious little dragon... They had just begun to get emotionally closer back then... To become friends...

Shaking the melancholy off, 'Midge' added: "Thy dessert tastes wonderful." The Lalafell blushed and stared at the table. "It's a recipe my mom used to cook for me when I was a child." she said with sparkling eyes. A soft smile flitted over the corners of his mouth. "Thy mother must have been doing a good job when she is able to cook like this." "Th-Thank you! And yes, she was in the best possible way taking care of me. I hope to be like that one day." the secretary uttered grinning. Closing the lids as his lips went further up, Midgardsormr stated confident: "I am sure thou will follow thy mother's example as soon as thou hast an own child."

"What about you? Do you want kids?" Tataru asked casually. Pressing the lids against each other, 'Midge' felt like telling a lie when he replied short-spoken: "I am undecided at the moment... Apologies for my boring response." Midgardsormr wished to not have to conceal, that he knew how taking care of children felt like... Denying, that he was already a father – and even a grandfather – cut in these moments amongst mankind deeply into his chest...

"That's totally fine. Don't worry." ,the Lalafell said understanding, "You're younger than me – and so is Ceci, too. No need to rush things." Looking at Tataru, he furrowed his brows in confusion when a malicious smile appeared on her face. The secretary's voice possessed a sweet vibe while she uttered her notion: "BUT I must say: The two of you would really have cute babies."

His cheeks heated instantly, so he gazed to the ground. "Thou art making fun of me..." he muttered while she laughed amused about his reaction. Just the bare imagination was bad for his vessel... Uncontrollable, it twitched in abashment and forbidden approval... The father of dragon-kind needed a moment to calm himself before he could eat the very last bites; glad when Tataru changed the topic to something trivial.

~C~

Breathing thin air was for mortal lungs troublesome...

This was a harsh lesson to learn. Same counted for unusual high; it hurt the brain.

Yet, this was not the most wondrous part about today. Who would have thought, that minor progress of another three days in purest torture turned him already into material worth of visiting Abalathia... Worth to mime a bodyguard... Of course he was not the only one protecting the orderer. Merely, 'Midge' was meant to be an assistant for the true sentinel. But he couldn't overlook the fact, that even mortals wouldn't foolishly send an amateur into the territory of a beast-tribe.

Gazing skeptical around, he gripped the lance in his hands tighter.

"A little nervous today?" his ally called without a tremor. 'Midge' couldn't help but snort reflexively. He didn't like that arrogance; no matter how used he was to this trait... A part of him wished it wouldn't be Estinien who had decided to come with them... Another part, however, was glad about the skilled cynic... Before he decided to reply something, the client was quicker: "You should share his caution. Midge doesn't take this lightly. Other than you, he demonstrates the right behavior."

"Who says I wouldn't act observantly? At least none of MY equipment was stolen. Thinking of it... Why didn't you engineers recognize these chubby, flightless birds? Their steps aren't very graceful." the Elezen countered calmly. "The Vanu own flying mounts. They do not need to walk around for playing thieves." ,Cid grumbled with that wolf-like presence, "Also, we all were doing our job! Ishgard's airship takes lots of time and concentration- I doubt a blockhead like you can understand how difficult your Protector truly is. Anyways, we engineers are also just humans. We can't notice everything that happens in our surroundings."

Estinien shrugged and walked ahead. "Whatever you say. My vocational field has nothing to do with screws and wires, so save your breath." This stoical behavior made the Hyur sigh intensely. "Be glad he's here... Be glad he's here... Pfft, the hell I will." the bearded man grumbled muted. 'Midge' gave a restrained grin to watch this. Together with Cid he kept after the Azure Knight; chuckling lowly when the engineer clenched the fists.

So strange... So unbelievable hilarious... Originally, Midgardsormr had been jealous of this man for holding a big piece of the maiden's affection. Almost as much as in case of her favorite, Alphinaud, the evil feeling was burning in the dragon-father's chest just by watching the Raen interact with Cid. But now, caged in this mortal vessel... The Methuselah felt rather content than unsettled. He was surprisingly glad to have this person in his near. Who would have thought, that an ancient dragon could so easily be influenced by just a handful of similarities...

"How are Ceci and Erik able to endure him?" ,the wolf-like face came closer to 'Midge's' right ear, "If he acted more self-regarding plus crazy, he wouldn't contrast strongly with my rival Nero..." Gazing slightly puzzled at the engineer, the Methuselah stated: "I have sadly no knowledge about thy competitor... Yet, I probably know how thou art feeling. My sincere sympathies."

That was something they had definitely in common. Deep aversion for rough, mannerless people... The disguised dragon jerked a little in the second Cid patted his right shoulder. "You're a good guy, Midge. Don't let Estinien's cynicism ruin your mood." the Hyur uttered smiling. Mentioned man interrupted them right afterwards: "Wait with your private talk until we are done here. Looks like getting the equipment back won't be so easy."

The Dragoon's words were slightly understated. When Midgardsormr and Cid reached their ally, they were able to behold a big group of Vanu – patrolling dutiful through the bird's settlement. Although their motions resembled even now dancing, the tribesmen were still serious enemies.

"How can we avoid them? Only the three of us won't be able to fight so many foes... There might be even more Vanu in case not all are at home... And I really do not want to ask Laniaitte for sending her Rose Knights just for getting my stuff back..." the bearded man thought loudly.

Good question... What would be an appropriate plan...

Folding the arms, Estinien glanced at 'Midge'. "Hey, Loverboy."

What a disgusting nickname... Typical... Shoulders stiffening, the Methuselah looked at the Elezen. As Midgardsormr braced himself in expectation of being criticized, it felt like the Dragoon's severe eyes were choking him – in spite of the black helmet which should technically lessen the effect.

Estinien's voice was on the contrary oddly calm: "I'm actually surprised, that Alberic was willing to accept a pupil who's starting practically on Level Zero. Normally, my former mentor works only with Lancers who already know by experience how the job has to be done. It makes him uneasy when unacquainted persons try to fit in Coerthas' duties – old as he is, he can't babysit others. So, you must be something special when Alberic insisted on turning you into one of us."

Hearing these words made the dragon's stomach stir in nervousness.

Inhaling, Midgardsormr asked as apathetic as possible: "What do thou want to imply?"

"You're able to fight. And even as a brassy Lancer, you can dodge via jumping. If only you and me fetch the toolboxes, our chances are much higher to get out of this mess without additional risks." the Azure Knight suggested severely. Raising his brows, the Methuselah stared abashed at Estinien. Was his mortal shell in the eyes of the most superior Dragoon truly competent enough to keep up? This excuse of a body should already suffice for something real adventurers did every day?

Midgardsormr hesitated to voice his opinion. Cid, meanwhile, wasn't convinced: "But three men are stronger than two. And albeit Midge is Cecilia's boyfriend, he's still not as used to fighting as she is. His profession is gathering, forgotten? You can't expect from him to mirror your motions."

"Doubting Alberic's judgement?" ,the armored Elezen snapped, "He trusts Midge's abilities already enough to let him visit the Sea of Clouds! That's more meaningful than it initially seems to be. Also, what do YOU exactly plan to do? Stabbing the birds with your funny little tools? Screwdriver and -wrench may scare machines, but surely no Vanu."

Cid ground the teeth loudly. "Before you pigheaded fellow offend me again... Fine! I trust Midge, so if he says your risky maneuver is okay for him, I'm on his side. But don't dare to put any pressure onto his shoulders in case he's not ready for such suicidal undertakings!" The Azure Knight harrumphed loudly; ready to strike back. In order to avoid more arguments as well as loss of time, the disguised dragon stated pacifying: "We will try to regain the tools just as Estinien has suggested. Probably my skills are not much of a help, but it is true that I am already able to dodge in a way akin to Dragoons. If we are fast, there aren't many risks."

A satisfied grin appeared under the black helmet, while the mien behind that beard seemed nervous. "Watch out when you infiltrate the settlement. Don't act careless, Midge..." Cid mumbled worried while Estinien was already preparing to get started. "Keh, he'll be fine. Don't treat him as if he was a chicken and you his mother-hen." the Azure Knight rebuked him with a sharp pitch in the voice.

Snickering under his breath because the mortal's shenanigans tickled his bad sense of humor, Midgardsormr told the Hyur nevertheless with a grateful smile: "Do not pay any attention to him... Thy care is truthfully more than welcome. I thank thee." The wolf-like face became brighter; smiling sympathetic with daredevil eyes in sky-blue color.

"Let's go, Loverboy. Follow my lead." the Dragoon called and jumped off.

~C~

Squinting the left eyelid, 'Midge' squeezed his right shoulder.

Its muscles hurt; partly the bones beneath as well. Getting Cid's stolen gear back hadn't been easy... To fight several Vanu – all of them much stronger than his mortal vessel – was a new experience which the Methuselah could easily have dropped per will. If his legs wouldn't manage to throw him a few meters away if needed, the battle would have probably ended horrible for him...

But at least the goal was accomplished.

Together with Estinien, he had reconquered the tools for their rightful owner. Unwilling to cause optional trouble, however, the dragon lied to Cid when the engineer asked him about his injuries. Therefore, on the way back to Camp Cloudtop, 'Midge' had slightly to pay for his indirect pacifism. He needed to endure the ache no matter its intensity... Plus, the dragon couldn't use both hands, so the toolbox which he carried was solely held by his unconfined left hand. But knowing Augustine, she would later take care of it, thus all he needed was patience...

Returning to the Camp, Cid had begged both fighters to stay just in case for a while. To remain in Abalathia until he would be done, so that they could return together to Ishgard. Albeit the dragon would rather leave now, it wasn't his intention to reveal his true condition... Hence, he had accepted and leaned now against a fence. Waiting – to a great extent motionless – with the Azure Knight for the bearded man to complete the current work.

To the left of the Methuselah, Estinien snorted lowly.

"You have overdone it. These attacks of yours were too eager." the Elezen stated after 'Midge' was once more rubbing his shoulder. With an exiguous smile on the lips, Midgardsormr shook his head. "I don't feel this way. Rather, I presume our opponents have still been too powerful for me. Although I presume thou didn't find it hard to fight them..."

The Azure Knight gave an empty laugh: "Sorry to disillusion you, but a) I had trouble just like you and b) you're much stronger than you think. If you had acted like a coward instead of a brave guy, you would be in a better condition. That's for sure. … Your hits are serious stuff. If you overdo it, the result is what you got right now."

Watching, how Cid and Ishgard's engineers optimized the Protector, Midgardsormr asked: "Thou art respectively used to such battles? Fights which require perfect endurance?" The Dragoon sighed before he replied: "I am used to keeping my problems to myself. When I decide to let others not see through my facade, the thing is waterproofed. … If you plan to obtain this talent as well, make sure to not touch the hurting body-parts as long as others are around. Doing so reveals your weakness to attentive people. Even simple rubbing is suspicious."

The disguised dragon nodded slightly, although he bore a chuckle down.

Perhaps he hadn't been able to hide his physical agony, but in return Estinien was failing to notice what the Hyur next to him truthfully was. Unable to realize, that a dragon took next to him a break. So far, the gift of Her grace was indeed sufficient to walk unnoticed amongst mankind...

Both males kept quiet for the next minutes.

Despite the hurting shoulder, 'Midge' felt alright to be here.

His body was acclimating to the thin air; general cool temperature under warming sunbeams acceptable for his skin. A little bit he was tempted to doze for a while... Since the engineers didn't do many fascinating things and no beasts attacked, the moment was entirely peaceful. Perhaps, calling it a day when they returned later to the Holy City would be a good idea...

A harsh sting in the back of his head made him twitch.

The unpleasant feeling shook all his senses, thus woke him entirely up. Glancing to the left, Midgardsormr knew what it was even without seeing the cause for his malaise... The Eye. Nidhogg's body-part; hidden in Estinien's armor. Impalpably emitting energy. As another dragon, the Methuselah was nevertheless able to sense the hidden orb – as the first exemplar of his species, he felt its activities even when they were suppressed.

Probably... this was an attempt to manipulate the Azure Dragoon.

Mentioned Elezen, however, demonstrated a cold shoulder towards the influence.

Every pulse of energy deflected off the man just like words normally did. There wasn't even a special reaction... Studying him, Midgardsormr was surprised how little the Dragoon's breath hitched under the mental pressure. Additional, the folded arms tightened only minimal.

Interesting... Since normal people weren't able to sense the Eye, these little signs which revealed Estinien's pain would never betray him. With that, the mortal was true to his speech of not letting other people recognize how he felt. … How much willpower might this consume...? Furthermore, did the man experience loneliness in the second he suffered on his own...?

"You look unsettled. Something wrong?" the Azure Knight asked skeptical – glancing at 'Midge' from the corners of his sharp sapphire-eyes. The disguised being shook his head and turned the gaze as casual as possible away. If the Elezen ever realized, that Alberic's newest pupil could feel the Eye's activities, this might cause trouble. Also, Estinien didn't want others to see his burden – something the dragon had to respect. Every creature on Hydaelyn was born with the right to conceal whatever it wanted to hide from the world.

'Thou hast become weak, father.'

Midgardsormr widened the lids while his shoulders tensed painfully.

This voice... Was he hallucinating? … No, impossible... So this meant...

'Surprised about my skill to reach thee? It's been a while since we saw each other for the last time... Of course I became stronger. One-thousand years of war allowed me to strengthen both my physical AND mental abilities. It just took some time to figure unambiguously out, that this strange mortal were nobody else but thou.'

Forcing his lungs to keep their pace low to not warn Estinien, the Methuselah answered telepathic: 'I am rather surprised thou find it necessary to converse with me. If I am not mistaken, thou art holding a grudge against my decisions since the day Ratatoskr died through mortal hands.'

A dark snicker filled Midgardsormr's mind. 'Comprehensive as always... Yes, thou art indeed right... I shouldn't talk to thee. The one who endlessly watches cold-hearted the suffering of his own kind... But thou art alive. Thy body became a lifeless remnant, yet thou still exist. And even I can allow myself sometimes a little sentimentality. Thou art my father, after all.'

Midgardsormr sighed lowly: 'And thou art my son... I just wish my own flesh and blood would not be consumed by hatred... Not enslaved by revenge...' There was a wave of wonderment circulating from the Eye into his corpus. 'Thou experience regret? Grief...? There would be no need for this if thy decision would change... Join me and we punish mankind together. I am sure thou would feel the same satisfaction as I will.' Hope dwelled through Nidhogg's voice. The wyrm wanted to fight side by side... An honest wish; as pure as one so ruined by vengeance could be...

Squinting the eyes, the ancient dragon refused under distinct agony his offspring's suggestion.

'Thou know I will not participate in thy fell plan. As much as I want Ishgard to burn... To bleed and rotten and despair as much as we did... I have sworn to not harm Hydaelyn's children. This promise wasn't broken in the last millennium. And I intend to not change that.'

Nidhogg hissed: 'If thou would just be satisfied with watching me... thy personal activities weren't such a problem. Yet, as thou deny both – helping thy own brood as well as preferring our side... Thou art putting guilt onto thy shoulders. And to accompany some humans for peaceful measures makes it even worse... Thou commit a sin.'

Midgardsormr gave a deep growl into the mental connection. 'Thou judge thy first's wish for finding a solution that does not shed more of our blood? Thou thinkest safety means nothing to thy sire?!'

His son's following snarl was just half-hearted. Yet, Nidhogg kept the strong rebellious mind up: 'Our Primogenitor commands me to entrust him with our fate, albeit thy contract with Hydaelyn does not protect us? Apologies, but looking at thy favorite mortal, we are better off without relaying on Her grace. She would even let one of her chosen children die.'

The insult was too much.

Full of rage, Midgardsormr let his mind roar loudly.

His outburst suppressed Nidhogg's mental energy almost; nearly breaking the faint connection. Only because he cared for his child, the first dragon was not cutting short their conversation. Yet... When Midgardsormr realized, that he still overpowered his offspring's mental strength despite physical limitations, his telepathic noise faded.

Their situation was so strange... This remaining force within the Hyur-vessel was unexpected. Actually, its telepathy-ability was that, too... In secret, his left power surprised the Methuselah... Wonderment made the dragon-father silent to the point where his child regained its bravery.

'Thou art seemingly irate when I speak of Hydaelyn's failure.' ,the dark wyrm warily stated instead of asking, 'But there's more than only thy blind loyalty to Her grace which makes thee aggressive... I am not allowed to mention this mortal thou art holding dear.'

The Eye emitted frustration when Midgardsormr ignored these provoking words. Or rather, when the Primogenitor pretended to not care. His blood was in truth boiling with aggression.

Cursed...!

Of course his son already knew about Cecilia... Thinking of hiding all affection towards her from the revenge-consumed child had been a foolish thing to do. After all, Estinien carried a window which allowed Nidhogg to see the Au Ra whenever her stoic friend did. There weren't many details the dark wyrm needed to know in order to realize, that the contract with Her grace was clearly not the only thing which bound Midgardsormr to this one chosen.

Silence filled the space between both dragons. Meanwhile, all the mortals around them continued whatever they were doing. Unaware of the threat looming over their heads. Even Estinien's rude, but peaceful yawn gave the impression of innocence. Enviable.

After a few moments passed, Nidhogg tried anew to taunt or provoke the First: 'To whom art thou pledging true allegiance? The Mothercrystal or this girl?' Not feeling like even considering a reply, Midgardsormr lowered the lids of his mortal shell. It took lots of control to suppress the red glow in his gaze. A weary sigh coming from the other mind truly irritated him. 'There is no correct answer in my opinion, father. Feel free to be honest.' his son added hesitantly.

The dragon-father couldn't help but giving a low huff from the mortal lips.

'If my choice does not matter, why hast thou nothing better to do than questioning me?'

Keeping his voice calm was quite difficult... He could hardly not snap at his child. Nidhogg seemed to be aware of this, because he grumbled lowly: 'There had been once a time when thou possessed far more patience with thy descendants... I simply ask because I want to know at least for whom thou art betraying thy kind these days. An uncaring deity or a hopeless dreamer.'

Tss... No answer would suffice. As Midgardsormr was torn between both liability and admiration, he would either way lie to his son. Above all, he was still fearing what might happen if he voiced the feelings for the maiden in front of his child. Nidhogg's brood would instantly crush the favorite of their grandfather in order to punish the half-betrayal. The same counted certainly all the more for the grandchildren's sire who dared to challenge their Primogenitor.

'Such accusation... My father's favorite won't die by my claws as long as she stays away from me. Why art thou thinking I would hunt a human who is not one of Ishgard's bloodline?'

These words filled with indignation about Midgardsormr's distrust were surprising... Long ago, Nidhogg had always been like this. When those who belonged to his family doubted his good will, he sulked and complained. This behavior meant, that the dark wyrm was honest to them.

On the other hand, it was disturbing how much he could comprehend his father's thoughts.

The First growled: 'Thou destroy all mortals who fight not on thy side. Who do not become weredragons sooner or later. I cannot and won't believe thy promising words.' 'And still thou should. This girl never shed our blood. Of course I will rip her apart if she comes to me, but on the distance I show mercy because this one does not kill us. For being thy favorite, I shall additionally not allow my brood to harm her.' the wyrm stated in a manner which resembled Estinien's stubborn mind.

Midgardsormr faltered to trust Nidhogg.

But his son was quick in making him change his mind with a few last words: 'We dragons don't lie. I will not lower myself to mortal standards. So believe into my promise... If one of us ends her life, it will only be me. Thy favorite is my very own prey. Father, I do not let any other of our kind have the pleasure to break her body and taste her curdling blood.'

Egoism almost as cruel as mortal hearts.

Judgment tainted by hatred worse than humane honor.

Fear made Midgardsormr shiver when the mental connection was gone. Albeit Estinien's steely eyes with their sapphire hue were watching in bewilderment, 'Midge' gripped his vessel's chest. Breathing irregular since the heart under his hand pounded with uneven beats.

~C~

There was slight distraction from Nidhogg's words as the three returned to Ishgard.

Back at the Machinist-guild, a tense Alphinaud waited together with Tataru for them; a relaxed Erik also present. It was rare to see the teenager rather speechless, but he had indeed trouble to explain the newest happening. But while the young scholar spoke in shaky manner, Midgardsormr found it soon easy to grasp this distressed behavior.

Somehow, Alphinaud and Tataru had provoked the Inquisitors too much. Their desire to learn more about Ishgard had become suspicious to the point where they created a serious reason to distrust both Elezen and Lalafell. With that, the two had been accused of hurting the law – and a tribunal was the only adequate instance in charge of their fate.

Of course Tataru wasn't able to fight for herself. Not even carbuncles followed the Lalafell's orders, thus the laws gave her the chance to chose somebody to battle in lieu of her. Erik had been around as the only Warrior of Light – and demonstrated eagerness to help his friends, so it was him who joined Alphinaud at the tribunal. The Marauder and teenager were victorious, whereby both bearers of pointed ears turned out to be – according to Halone's teachings – innocent.

Listening to their story, Midgardsormr realized something. Probably not for the first time, but only now he truly understood, how important the ability of fighting was. Even though he was currently for sure unable to beat any strong knights – mortals who were above all much smarter than Vanu... In the end, even the weakest skill was better than none. He was limited due to lacking magic or rather aether, but still he could protect himself. And the Methuselah had at all costs to make sure, that this didn't change. Even more: Hydaelyn's mortal vessel needed to become stronger. Thus – instead of calling it a day – he would have to train until dinner-time drew close.

Tataru seemed to notice his decision.

Later, in the evening, the Lalafell picked him up when he wanted to go back to Fortemps' manor – after Augustine's usual treatment was over. Walking by his side, the secretary told 'Midge' to be glad how much he trained. She could only be depressed by her inability to fight, while his strong will made her very proud. He was compensating his insufficient magic by physical skill, while she possessed hardly the precision for handling a sword.

Emphatic, he emphasized for Tataru, that her strength originated from being a good mental support, so there was no need for feeling this way. Following, she smiled and mentioned her wish to become nevertheless one day a strong Arcanist; one who was not only good in throwing Miasma and Ruin, but who could also control her carbuncle. As a secretary, mathematics were a child's play for her – thus Tataru was able to use all basic-spells without problems. There existed plenty of aether to use; other than in 'Midge's' case. She only needed to manage the class' willpower-aspects.

The dragon-father experienced happiness to hear this. With that, his lightened mood made him joke about his weakness to be not even able to create the tiniest flame. Tataru stated laughing, how hilarious the two of them were together, and suggested some harmless gambling. She would cook and bake one week for him if the 'Hyur' managed to use a spell successfully, but if her carbuncle should one-hundred percent listen to the Lalafell before he was done, 'Midge' would for said week become her personal mount.

The Methuselah grinned while he noticed, how unfair the deal was, but the secretary countered nonchalantly, that she wasn't worse than Ul'Dah's businessmen. He couldn't help but chuckle about her cheeky expression, when she compared herself following with Lolorito.

~C~
An intense huff left his lips.

If his shape wouldn't be mortal, he would have preferred spitting fire somewhere...

'Midge's' head rested on his folded arms while he turned his gaze to the unconscious maiden. Watching Cecilia had always a calming effect on him, but simultaneously the Methuselah was afraid of losing her if she should ever wake up again. He knew the Raen was drawn to her friends no matter the general circumstances, so Estinien would sooner or later surely lead her to Nidhogg; be it per will or because she felt the need to protect him.

The ancient being buried his face into the mattress when his son's promise rang loudly in his brain. His knees pressed against each other as he sat stiffening on his feet; starting to entirely shiver because of the knowledge how serious the dark wyrm was to reserve Cecilia for his very own claws. The Au Ra was unmistakably destined to meet Nidhogg... If she regained ever her consciousness, there existed no possibility to avoid this...

While 'Midge' had still spent some minutes with Tataru in the villa, he was keeping the anxiety with pure force far away from his thoughts... But now, the sentiment was flooding his mind unstoppable. Crushing into his complete awareness... Ready to tear him apart...

The wet eyes searched once more for Cecilia's peaceful mien; minimal flickering like fire and therefore not having a clear vision. He was desperate to haven't heard her voice since eighteen days. Nineteen, in case he considered today... The helplessness was consuming him whenever he began to count time like mortals did. When he acted like a human – caught in their idea of the flow of life – Midgardsormr felt all the more how much it hurt to be without her.

There were bright moments which erased the abyss entirely, though. Minutes that made him feel close to the maiden; let him see the world from her point of view. Made him an adventurer like her. Whenever his skills were good enough to complete a quest properly, the joy she must experience in these activities rushed through his veins. And the smile which people gave him in return for undertaking a solid job reminded him of her shining grin.

Hesitantly touching Cecilia's left hand, 'Midge' knew the simpleness of an adventurer's life was what he wanted to share with the precious maiden. Midgardsormr didn't care for earning money – there was for him no need to spend it apart from buying nutriment and borrowing at times mounts – but helping humans was something he truthfully began to enjoy. It was surely for the mortal vessel, that his thoughts were altered so drastically, but it couldn't be helped anymore...

Her grace had blessed him with the possibility to see for himself, how mortals might feel and act, thus he wouldn't dare to refuse this chance.

Leaning his cheek against this soft hand; inhaling the maiden's flowery scent, he was grateful for Hydaelyn's decision to give him a shape that lasted longer than a single day. Even while this shell was nevertheless rotting around his soul until it grew old and died... Even while the dragon-father didn't think he would be able to use the Echo's transcendence into another body... Even if there might not even be a chance for him to be reborn... Midgardsormr was still here. Now. In the present. This was all what mattered. And he wanted to be by Cecilia's side if she woke up ever again. Wanted to be there in case she and Nidhogg should ever meet each other.

He closed the eyes as his face hid itself in her hand. Maybe... for tonight he could allow himself – just like his son did before – one small weakness... The Methuselah wouldn't sleep in her bed while his spirit possessed this mortal shape. Wouldn't rest here without her approval, but perhaps... Perhaps being like this for once was acceptable without breaking politeness and honor. Just a bit... Just a bit closeness to her like the very last nights had been before she fell into this coma...

He wouldn't yearn for more contact than the feeling of her hand on his skin, although he missed Cecilia's hugging all over his hilarious corpus of a baby-dragon... The way she showed him openly true affection... But anyways, everything he needed was to feel her warmth. Only a little bit...

Tears streamed from his shut eyes as the memory of her embrace guided him into sleep.

~C~

The ancient existence dreamed.

Leathery wings spread into the evening-sky; carrying him through rosy clouds.

His corpus was huge and serpentine; these four legs almost unnoticeable in the air.

Underneath him, the planet's most beautiful continent unfolded. Although Eorzea lay practically to the dragon's very feet, he had no eyes for it. There was something else that had caught his gaze... Someone. A presence he had only seen for a single time in his everlasting life...

Midgardsormr was dazzled when the memory gripped his heart.

This being had once guided him to this world; long ago. Helping him and his unborn children...

A tear of joy glided over the dragon-father's cheek while he couldn't help but stare at his fellow.

The heavenly existence flew in gentle circles around him as it watched the land beneath the clouds. White wings losing sometimes one or two feathers; a fluffy tail stirring in the breeze. Silvery claws shining under the sunlight at the edges of all four limbs. Its body owned no scales but fur and resembled rather a wyvern instead of a wyrm... Smaller plus shorter than Midgardsormr's current, full-grown form; matching the seize of his younger self... Yet, this shape was prettier than anything as well as everyone else blessed with immortality... Such charming appearance he loved to study...

The creature looked suddenly at him.

Oh, what embarrassment he experienced when a gentle growl rolled its throat...

Midgardsormr had forgotten, how fascinated he had been on this far away day... No, not forgotten. He had suppressed the memory. Because the secret feeling towards the stranger was back then hunting him... Adoring another immortal wasn't criminal, but his futile magnetism towards this one had to be stopped... The beautiful traveler belonged to a world dimensions away from Hydaelyn; there was no possibility to stay. Also, it helped him only because of pity – nothing more. So when his savior was gone, Midgardsormr's soon darkened mood only threatened to interfere with his fatherly duties... With that, the Methuselah had step by step forced himself to let go.

The pretty illusion next to him was the first time in millenniums he thought again of his savior.

Watching its graceful motions, the dragon wondered why he was even dreaming about the foreigner. As it drifted down – closer to the ground – Midgardsormr questioned his subconsciousness. Cecilia's coma DID unmistakably tear at his mental stability, but was this truly enough to reawaken an old loneliness which hadn't befallen him since ages...?

The Methuselah followed the heavenly creature.

It hovered over a lake – HIS lake. That place he used to call home... The water looked just like in the days before the Garleans attacked years ago; free from corrupted crystals and full of nature. Midgardsormr became melancholic as his gaze wandered over the landscape. This pretty area here... The dragon would never be able to show his precious maiden truly, which landscape he had seen as the very first wonder the planet was offering to him...

His companion gazed at the dragon-father.

Pity was written all over its face as the being watched him from afar.

He found his brain's ill humor frustrating, to remind him of his bad luck with the one who provoked his attention, but... On the other hand, this might be a good thing to do... He had lost someone without ever possessing the object of his yearnings. The Silvertear Lake's former beauty was also gone forever. But Cecilia wasn't dead yet. She was very valuable even without a clear appellation for the affection in his mind.

Sad happiness made his jagged maw smile.

"Thou art not real, but... I thank thee for reminding me of the importance to worship everything dear to me in the present instead of the inalterable future. Even if I carry not much hope in my heart, I will cling to this light until my spirit vanishes into nothingness. Will cherish it until my existence disappears forever. … I am glad thou helped me once more."

The heavenly existence nodded – gently smiling – and gave him an all-knowing gaze.

Then, it flew away, while Midgardsormr sank into dreamless slumber.

~C~

A hiss escaped him – fists simultaneously clenching.

She was overdoing the treatment for today a little too much...

"Thy optimism chokes me. Literally." he muttered plus glanced with a helpless facial expression over his left shoulder at the Astrologian. "Sorry!" ,Augustine apologized, "I'm just still a bit distracted by yesterday's news... I wouldn't have expected the Inquisitors to pick on another Elezen. For sure they're be glad about a Lalafell interviewing everybody about Ishgard, but Alphinaud is similar to Ishgard's royalty the descendant of a noble family. He have more rights than Tataru."

'Midge' sighed and stated down-to-earth: "Thou and thy racism... I don't think any stranger would experience mercy in this city. Those who do not originate from 'noble' blood will be judged and punished for the most trivial things. Intrigues are part of Ishgard's history – longer than thou art able to imagine. Humans tend to destroy themselves from the inside even while they are at the edge of or right within a war. Destruction by an enemy's hand is the lesser evil."

"True, true... This place really is corrupt... We Au Ra know this pretty well. But I learned to call it my home, so... I guess you can forgive me my naivety." the Raen said and switched from his nape to his bared shoulder-blades; pressing with her fingertips onto the hurting bones.

Ah, that wasn't good... And her scolding made it worse: "Man, you honestly overdid it yesterday. Estinien is right; this is the result of self-injuries. How reckless of you! I confidently thought I could heal your body, but that's rather something good old nature has to correct. However, with you and your stubborn mind, I suppose the process will take more time than necessary. Or do you plan to skip your training plus adventurer-quests for a while?"

He gave her a short look; eyes glowing in crimson. "Not going to happen." the disguised dragon muttered while his gaze returned to the floor. Ignoring her muted complaint, the Methuselah focused on breathing. He still needed to get used to it... This therapy. Albeit Augustine reminded him so much of the maiden, she was still somebody else. Midgardsormr's draconic instincts never relaxed under her touches. One should expect, that he could sooner or later trust this friendly Raen, but absurd as his mind was, this realization didn't occur.

Luckily, the Astrologian was very patient. She mimed his therapist even while their conversations turned sometimes into discussions. Never minding his occasionally harshness or stinging gazes. Always accepting his narrow-minded opinions. Ah yes... Her whole trait resembled indeed Cecilia. And he knew she wasn't intentionally acting like the archmage. The two women just happened to possess similar personalities.

Something Midgardsormr admired.

Something he craved because of remembering their shared night...

"You can put your pullovers on. We're finished for today." Augustine stated and patted audible smiling his back. The Methuselah exhaled deeply before he gripped his first shirt. Being half-naked in the Astrologian's near was every time anew frustrating... Similar as a dragon showed a mortal its vulnerable spots... While his head vanished in the fabric, he recalled – despite all the identical facets – how much she was in the same moment NOT like his precious maiden...

Augustine was a dragon-slayer. She killed them if she had to. And didn't regret taking their lives. Midgardsormr's species was for her like all the other creatures- monsters inhabiting this planet; something she had usually not on her mind. Probably, nothing would change for her if she'd know about the truth which Ishgard denied... The eccentric Astrologian was in this aspect rather a normal, predictable human who cared for the status quo.

"Good evening! Augustine, are you still busy or can I spend some time with my childhood-friend?" a familiar voice called from the ground-floor. "Sure you can! Wait a moment; we'll come down!" she answered full-throated while the disguised dragon put the last piece of clothing on.

When Midgardsormr followed the Raen, Haurchefant looked guiltily at him in the very moment their eyes met. "I am sorry... I didn't know you were yet here, Midge... Hopefully I wasn't interrupting your therapy?" the good knight asked worried. Augustine shook her head and replied instead of the Methuselah: "No, you weren't. Don't worry, we had already completed our session. It's just a bit later than usual because I got very distracted. See, I find it still quite unbelievable, that the Inquisitors went so far to confront two guests of a royal house." "Yes, this shocked me, too... Actually I thought at first that I must be dreaming!"

Listening to their following talk, Midgardsormr wondered silently, why the Elezen trusted blindly the regularly evening-ritual. Why he wasn't thinking of something fishy here, to be more precisely. As much as the Methuselah had learned, such suspicious behavior of men – like often meeting another woman – was a possible sign of cheating. Yet, Haurchefant demonstrated pure belief into his female friend and Cecilia's 'partner'. He was convinced, that they weren't doing anything wrong; the sky-blue eyes revealed fullest trust.

A weak smile glided over Midgardsormr's mortal lips.

This innocent Elezen would have been the right choice to make. Nowhere else could such a brave, good heart been found within this icy solitude. Beating endlessly with sheer warmth and faith... Cecilia was in consideration of Haurchefant a fool to not fall head-over-heels in love.

"I shall return to Fortemps' manor." the disguised dragon stated abruptly.

"Huh? Why? It's so nice when only the three of us are together!" Augustine protested immediately. Of course the knight joined her complaint: "We're spending far too rarely time with each other... Can't you stay a little bit longer, please? One half-hour, at least?"

Chuckling, 'Midge' shook his head. "No. I won't mind a meeting after tomorrow's tasks are done, but for today I should behave well and go easy on my back. After all, my therapist scolded me already for recklessness." "Hehe, yeah, I did that..." ,the Astrologian confirmed meekly under his devilish smirk, "If you plan to rest in your room at the villa, I think that's probably the more prudent decision how to spend to rest of this day. … Okay, okay, I won't stop you."

Haurchefant stared worried at the disguised dragon. "What happened to your back? Have you hurt yourself today? Or were the Vanu yesterday-" "Haurchy, you don't have to treat the Warriors and their friends all the time with so much concern. Give it a break!" the Au Ra said grinning and poked the Elezen with her right elbow. Sheepishly, her childhood-friend apologized and bowed down; making the Methuselah laugh muted.

~C~

After saying goodbye, Midgardsormr walked quickly out of the building.

His excuse to leave the two humans was in fact a false pretence... Actually he didn't care for Augustine's reproof. If she agreed to 'Midge's' daily routine or not wasn't influencing his decision to improve his physical performances. But what he cared for... was the bond between these mortals.

The chance wasn't huge, but the ancient dragon saw here still a possibility...

Haurchefant and Augustine could be more than just friends. While they spend these days more time with each other, their favorite Warrior of Light wasn't around to distract them... This could enable perhaps some realization for the knight, that a similar woman had always been in his near. Furthermore, the Astrologian admired her childhood-friend already like a hero; she only needed romantic sentiments in order to fall for him.

Well, of course it wasn't Midgardsormr's place to tell them what they should feel.

As the Methuselah walked through gently falling snowflakes, he knew these mortals had the right to refuse an easier path. Both humans could cling endlessly to their feelings for Cecilia, if they wanted such loyalty. Even, when this would mean to be alone, their emotions had priority. Above all...

Their darling wasn't truly taken. She was still available.

Heh... Unbelievable how long they had already been fooled... Twenty days...

Midgardsormr didn't plan to carry Erik's lie forever on his shoulders. Not for this Hyur, at least.

As soon as possible... Should Cecilia ever wake up again... The dragon-father would do whatever she wanted from him – declining the false title instantly or enduring the appellation as long as she thought it might be a good idea. But anyways, he would get finally rid of the hated falsehood. Surely not by putting the gruff Marauder in a bad light – the lie was meant to be protection, after all. However, an ancient existence couldn't live in a cage of untruthfulness. This mortal vessel with all its limitations plus human socializing was prison enough.

Stepping into the villa, he greeted the guards marginally.

Although his draconic pride would normally not allow such little injuries to trouble him at all, Midgardsormr couldn't deny the nuisance his hurting nerves as well as bones meant. Perhaps... relaxing his back was in the end no stupid idea. After all, he would soon sleep for a few hours and then restart his routine. A new day awaited; new quests to accept and lots of training to exercise.

The corridor which led to Cecilia's room had been quiet so far.

With that, the dragon-father was surprised when the silence was suddenly broken.

Muted tunes of a stern conversation echoed through the halls; barely audible for normal mortal ears. Who was visiting the maiden at this late hour...? Not that he cared for the clock-time-adjustment, but they could have joined him instead of going alone to her...

His feet stopped immediately when he could see in the distance, that Erik and Sir Aymeric stood in the maiden's door. Both men appeared to be busy with a private talk, hence 'Midge' should better not disturb them... Yet... If his corpus would just be a bit more energetic now... Tiredness spread through his aching muscles a fortiori he didn't sit down... Undecided, what would be the best thing to do in this situation, the disguised antiquity didn't move. His hesitation enabled him unwillingly to listen to their words thanks to his remarkable sense of hearing.

"...is truly blessed with a considerate brother. Do not think otherwise." the Lord Commander's voice reached Midgardsormr's ears first. "But I fail to help her whenever she needs me. With all my pride, I often trust Ceci's abilities too much – which makes me blind for danger. Of course I don't think of patronizing my personal sister, but... Argh..."

From afar, it looked like Erik was squinting the eyes. The choked sound which came from his throat was anyways quite noticeable. To be honest, the dragon petrified by watching such mortal misery. Especially in this case. Normally, the gruff man let only Cecilia come truthfully close to him – whereby these signs of desperation were now far more sentimentality than Erik's usual behavior was ever insinuating. To watch this moment now was appalling...

Aymeric's mien beclouded with agony: "Your silent suffering is reason enough to not think of you as a reckless sibling. Evil words of a few Inquisitors don't change this. For Lady Cecilia, you are the best possible brother." A weak grin slipped over Erik's face. "How long are you going to use that formal idiocy? Or call her politely by her surname? That behavior's so stupid, mister elf... After all, you never used 'sir' or a family-name in consideration of me."

Midgardsormr raised the brows – this just sounded like Erik was talking about his own, lost Eorzea. The Lord Commander, however, was unaware of this hint while he smiled amused: "Hah, funny... You do not reveal your real name to anybody, so I had not really a choice how to address you. … But okay, when your sister wakes up, I'll ask her if I am allowed to use her given name."

Looking at the ground, Erik noticed: "It feels good to be exceptionally not the only one who's sure she won't stay forever comatose..." The Elezen sighed and scrutinized the depressed Marauder. "Your comrades demonstrate usually confidence... But yes, if one knows them, their doubt leaks sometimes through their heroic facade. Even Sir Midge as her boyfriend appears desperate underneath the obvious wish to help. … I do whatever I can to lessen the burden for all of you. Even while the antipathy in two of Ishgard's four royal houses is immense, I don't give up on convincing the whole city of your value."

The Hyur glanced up: "Hatred follows you through every political issue because of your heritage, but you never grow tired of doing the right thing." "Of course not." ,the knight emphasized, "Ishgard must open its eyes to the rest of the world – see more than just its very own interests. Central Coerthas began to change – and we all can see that this was a good occurrence. The truth can't be denied forever." Aymeric smiled optimistic, but these steel-eyes closed in pain as they saw the Lord's assurance. Then, with a sunken head, Erik mumbled: "I saw a vision of you paying lethal for your help. And I must admit... it's still eating me up to feel this loss in my chest..."

The dragon jerked minimal.

Aha, so the Warrior was indeed hinting to that other world... And according to his intangible agony, the Lord Commander had perished on this mirrored planet. Well, that was almost self-evident while many important inhabitants of the Holy City were against any support of the Warriors...

Midgardsormr was surprised when the Elezen abruptly gripped Erik's shoulders.

"I'm not going to die. As if I could even leave Estinien and you alone! The two of you would end up on the burning stake without me covering your backs." Aymeric said and put the right hand under the Hyur's chin, so that he forced him to look up. The expression in the later's irises was distressful while he studied the cyan-eyes. "I saw the future... Without my sister, I know we are probably NOT able to change our fate... Darkness we all couldn't foresee will swallow you altogether and then extinguish your soul in the very process." Erik revealed and gave a short sob.

The father of dragon-kind quivered to watch this.

Suddenly... it was easy to tell, what his alternate version had seen in the Warrior...

Once, another Primogenitor was close enough to this Hyur for experiencing his mortal weaknesses – and even seeing desirable aspects such as condolence and duteousness. Losing their world had indeed turned Erik into the shadow of a man worth to be accompanied by a dragon.

Aymeric stroked gently Erik's shock of hair, albeit seriousness lay in the Elezen's mien. He stated down-to-earth: "We'll see if the Echo was showing you something unalterable. But I refuse to believe blindly, that all I fight for should already be in vain. Since I met you for the very first time, I'm sure my path is the right one. So trust me and don't lower your head in fear."

"You're a better leader than me..." Erik grumbled meekly and tried to smirk. "Of course I am." ,Aymeric stated chuckling, "After all, the mighty boss of the Warriors of Light has condescended to let me see a side of him which he does not even like to show his personal sister."

The Hyur sulked: "Pfft, as her big brother, it would be pretty counterproductive to bawl my eyes out on her shoulder... Just look how little respect YOU give me when we're alone..." His words made the Elezen laugh abashed. "That's only because the two of us do not care for each others titles... Your straightforward informality lifts a weight from me just as Estinien's bluntness does. You two make me feel happier than I normally am. … No, not exactly in the same way. You are different, Monsieur Warrior. I'm not drawn to his cynicism, but to yours." "Well, I'm cornier than he is... Surely the lesser evil is rather to your liking." the Marauder muttered. His conversational-partner shook the head: "I didn't mean that. Estinien is like a brother for me. You, on the contrary..."

Widening his eyes, the disguised dragon watched how Aymeric leaned down and – with the pressure of a butterfly – touched Erik's lips. This... suggested the kiss of a fairy-tale-prince... Probably, it also felt like one... Considering the surprised mien of the Hyur, anyways, he was just as baffled as 'Midge' himself. Well... Maybe not entirely over-strained like the ancient being.

Erik had been implying a connection to the Lord Commander of his alternate Eorzea...

Without the awful behavior alias cold shoulder he demonstrated nonstop towards other humans, perhaps the Marauder wouldn't have prevented a bond to the Elezen in this world. Therefore, it was odd to see him acting as if this here was an unexpected novelty. He had to know mortal socializing better than an antiquity, after all...

Erik's trembling body spoke silently of confusion when Aymeric let go of his mouth.

"Are you kidding...? Fooling yourself...?" ,the brunette man scoffed throaty, "How can you do this?! I'm willingly unfriendly – plus fixated on my purpose – to make sure nobody becomes too attached to me... And you still think I'm sympathetic?!" Huh, the Hyur snapped the last words nervously. Looked like he had indeed not counted on any emotional bonding... Aymeric smiled innocent while he ignored the complaint: "A treasure's a treasure even under a load of stony soil. You're special."

Midgardsormr couldn't remember to have ever seen such a helpless Midlander.

Normally, he would relish in the situation of this annoying, over-strained mortal... Erik failed similar to Ishgard's people in acting humble plus gentle, after all. But the father of dragon-kind couldn't enjoy his awkwardness now. He owed this person a lot... Pretending to haven't heard or seen both men, the disguised dragon walked into the direction of Cecilia's door. "Ah, good evening! I didn't know thou would visit us tonight." the Methuselah called with slight surprise in his voice when her personal brother as well as Aymeric gazed irritated at him.

Politely, the Lord Commander replied: "Sir Midge... Forgive my lack of manners. I know it would have been appropriate to inform you about the visit." Shrugging, 'Midge' said calmly: "No problem. I just hope I didn't disturb thee." Embarrassed, Aymeric avoided eye-contact for a short moment, while Erik regained his usual sassiness. "We were just chatting. Some talk from one bro to another, so to speak." ,the Marauder uttered nonchalantly, "If you don't mind talking mostly about Ceci as well as Estinien, feel free to join our club of mocking big brothers."

Keeping down his amusement about Erik's obvious wish to save face, the Methuselah responded: "I'm not participating in negative gossip, but I gladly stay in thy company as long as thou art here." "That would be nice. And I promise we won't overdo our presence at Fortemps' manor." the Lord gave him smiling his word.

~C~

Albeit it had been a good conversation, he was relieved to finally close the door.

Ah, wonderful tranquility... Only the chimney's sizzling noise and Cecilia's calm breath were audible when he took a seat in the armchair next to her bed. The quietness made his mind a little more active; he would not yet indulge into slumber. Instead of this, Midgardsormr could do something useful which didn't require more physical movement than stirring eyes and hands.

Slightly smiling, the dragon-father put his shoes off before he covered the legs with a blanket; leaning his back against the chair. Such welcome relaxation... After enjoying this for a moment, 'Midge' grabbed a thick grimoire from the small desk next to the maiden's bed. Unbelievable to reflect on this trait, but it was the truth: Reading books owned by her was becoming a habit of him. His current favorite was this door-stopper here; the one about Astrology which Cecilia had studied on the day she cared for his sickish shape of a baby-dragon. The whole text was just as complicated as the two pages he had scrutinized back then, yet he loved absorbing Sharlayan's knowledge.

If this vessel wouldn't lack magic, doing what Augustine had once suggested could be very luring... As an Astrologian, he would be able to support Cecilia's friends even when they fought his kind. Helpless people who needed a savior might also benefit from enhanced abilities. Above all...

Avoiding confrontations through protective spells might be a key for ending the war without any more sacrifices. To think like this, of course, had to be labeled as naivety. But it was the only path his cynical mind could imagine to work. He knew the mentality of dragons too well; they all were basically shaped to match the example their Primogenitor gave. Thus, only something that was able to convince him might suffice to work the miracle.

Also... It wasn't only for combative advantages to consider such career. That blue-eyed part of him, which yearned so deeply for peace, dreamed of fighting by Cecilia's side. The remnant of a child within the Methuselah – symbolically speaking – grew fond of the picture to be an Astrologian and assist the maiden in her master-class. He was sure, that her white-magic would become unstoppable with the right support.

This dream, however, was still out of his reach. She was unconscious without any sign to change that soon; he couldn't even bind a small piece of aether to his will now. Perhaps he wasn't meant to have ambitions like mortals in spite of his shape... Nevertheless, Midgardsormr tried to see the best in Hydaelyn's part of the trade. Should there be any chance of fully outliving an adventurer's life – one that he could have – then it was self-evident to seek this luck. Never would he waste the mercy shown by the Mothercrystal.

Also, theoretical knowledge was better than none.

He might be able to teach others what he learned now, if his memorization wouldn't fail him. Though he doubted, that his mind could become a lot altered by his vessel. He was an ancient being with a solid spirit. An eternal mind. Yet... Nobody could know in the present, how the future might turn out to be. Perhaps he would become senile one day, if his soul would be caged for a long time in these humane chains... Wither and eventually die just as mortals; returning then unavoidably to the planet's aether as his soul's very last travel... Unable to be reborn ever again...

Shaking his head, the dragon focused once more on reading.

He shouldn't think to hard about the uncertain future.

~C~

Twenty-five days... Five more days that were gone forever...

He should really stop counting the passing time. That was poison for his nerves.

On the other hand, what else than a wandering mind should the dragon expect here...

In this snowy wonderland, there wasn't such a high chance of getting a reason for being focused... 'Midge' had been tasked with patrolling through Central Coerthas; close to the cursed Witchdrop. With that, he could do nothing else than thinking while his feet carried him over the cold floor.

Of course the Methuselah listened still to his environment.

In order to tell, if bandits or heretics were in reach – anybody who should be captured.

Having a daydreaming mind AND attentive senses was simple. As a Lancer who had quickly earned a good reputation, this slight multitasking wasn't difficult to handle for his Hyur-body. Furthermore, his draconic instincts were bored without occasionally thrills, whereby they automatically sharpened in promising situations. But there was more... And it was shameful...

The restless rage triggered by his helplessness to protect the precious maiden seemed to be not any longer something he could suppress easily. Strengthened by the fear Nidhogg's promise had created, his wrath had now found a valve in violent behavior. Taking criminals down – knocking them out – might not be as satisfying as killing mortals, but at least is sufficed to calm his thirst for destruction. To inflict damage on those who deserved punishment for their misdeeds was a good compromise. And he wasn't judging by mortal standards here...

Midgardsormr made always sure to be informed about possible targets.

Like Erik and the others, he tried to be no mindless tool but somebody who followed his own path. When a heretic was no real criminal, he would show mercy while fighting them. But as soon as 'Midge' faced a brute individual, there was only pure violence which led his lance. Nobody was able to fool the ancient dragon. He could still sense the intentions of his foes, so he knew when they were determined to kill him or not.

Thinking about it...

This was a trait which Estinien and his grand-cousin possessed as well.

In the last three days, the Methuselah had spent lots of time with both Elezen – and realized, that these men would be deadly foes in case they should ever see through his facade. The Azure Knight was a master of close combat, while Carlos was the strongest Thaumaturge alias Blackmage who the dragon had watched since the last few centuries. They went not softly on enemies and were ready to strike back as soon as somebody wanted to take their lives. Midgardsormr had been fearing Estinien's sharp senses before, but now this worry was more acute than ever before. Unimportant, that his vessel fooled them for now, as the knight's cousin appeared to be a similar threat.

Who of them might be the first one trying to slay him...?

Abruptly, an unusual sound caught his attention.

Within a few seconds the dragon noticed the origin of this zinging noise; right before he dodged it with a high jump. As his corpus went up into the air, he watched how the attack – a lightning-bolt – crashed into the snow on which he had been walking before. Whoever was trying to harm him... The intention behind their blow was surely no innocent amusement.

While gravity made him descend back to the ground, Midgardsormr watched out for the assassin. But what his eyes discovered was completely different from what he had been expecting...

His foe was an animal. A being resembling Xanthos. Just as Garuda's horse he had met on the very first day by Cecilia's side, this exemplar here was another magical creature. However, this being wasn't embodying the wind. Blue electricity surrounded its dark hooves. The purple mane plus tail were also slightly sparkling. And the expressionless scleras without a pupil glowed coldly in yellow if not white color as they stared at him; ready to strike once more at lightning-speed.

His legs were minimal shaking when they landed. Partly, they did so in fear...

From the Warriors of Light as well as other adventurers, he had heard stories about several elemental quadrupeds which different Primals had created. One of these was a servant originating from the Black Shroud – Markab. The Methuselah was sure to face aforesaid being now.

Faltering to use an ordinary spear against such foe, he just dodged a few attacks. Tried to go away. But the creature didn't let him. It was an aggressive horse with the attitude of a predator. Such nasty, incompliant animal had never crossed paths with him... Ah, he had no choice...

Midgardsormr fought back. Albeit he wasn't fond of coming so close to the electric quadruped, 'Midge' wielded his weapon with full willpower. As brave as all the other Lancers he had seen in his long life, the dragon faced his enemy. Surely the horse struggled for a while... But then, it refrained finally from him – frightened by his pure determination to get rid of it.

Panting, the father of dragon-kind watched as the creature sat abruptly down on the snow. His grip was still tight around the lance; even when his enemy lowered its head as a sign of peaceableness. He couldn't trust such a creature that had attacked him without any reason...

"Formidable skills. They are truly commendable... I am surprised how quickly you learned to use mortal weapons." an unfamiliar, deep tune of a man echoed suddenly in Midgardsormr's head. Frowning, the dragon asked: "Who art thou? I do not recognize thy voice. Thus I do not recall having met thee before." An amused chuckle came following from the horse. It made 'Midge' tense in nervousness; nails scratching over the metal.

The voice answered calmly: "I am somebody who got to know a specific maiden... You know her. After all, the girl's energy is tied to you, which identifies you as her benefactor. … I didn't expect the mighty Midgardsormr to rise for a chosen child of the Mothercrystal." Twitching, the dragon in human shape stared at the horse. If this here was Markab, then it was clear to whom the will behind the quadruped belonged...

"Ramuh." he hissed while his eyes glowed slightly.

Unbelievable... How could the Primal even be existent right now? If the Sylphs had summoned him, the Warriors of Light would already know about the ritual thanks to their connections to Gridania. Above all: Other adventurers might have as well warned everybody plus tried to prevent any further damage apart from the lost aether which the summon had consumed. Thus, chances weren't high for the bearded mage to appear plus leave his forest unnoticed.

"I transferred a part of my will into this creature. Before the chosen Warriors met me, back then." the old voice stated abruptly. This sudden explanation made the dragon-father narrow his eyes. "Thou read my mind?" Midgardsormr questioned – a threat looming in his words. Ramuh chuckled: "No. Your confusion is visible in your gaze. A humane face steals a bit of your inexpressiveness. Also, it seems to alter your personality significantly. Or have you not accompanied the maiden from the very beginning in mortal disguise?"

Tss, 'amusing'... This 'god' here was on a personally level interested into his story... Grinning darkly, the dragon answered: "I thought thou art wise. Cecilia praised thy knowledge, after all. Thou should realize on thy own, that this corpus was granted by Hydaelyn. My vessel used to be a dragonet." The horse furrowed visible its brows. "I see... So your humanity wasn't caused by a mere body... This means the maiden did a good job to warm your heart." the old Primal noticed pleased.

The dragon tensed as he felt his cheeks discoloring. In order to conceal the embarrassment, Midgardsormr growled: "Thou hast no right to care for this." Isochronic, the crimson in his gaze burned brightly. But after the first irritation, Ramuh just laughed gently. "The maiden named Cecilia is truly a fine woman. She touches even a Primal's heart if such a being is not limited by its summoner's belief. This counts at least for me. ... I heard she got severely injured and hasn't recovered yet. There were no details given to my children, though. So I came to Coerthas for finding out myself, what might have happened to her."

Midgardsormr nodded: "I suppose thou got an answer." "Yes, indeed." ,the Primal confirmed, "However, I was worried about something else, too. What might he be doing... Hydaelyn's servant who had meanwhile 'adopted' the girl...? Possessing no knowledge about your condition was an unfortunate factor. I had been able to prognosticate your rise from the dead before, yet that hadn't involved a mortal. With that, I had no idea how you might react to a coma. But to luckily see now, what the maiden did to you before her accident, is a welcome surprise."

"What were thou expecting?" the Methuselah asked sourly. Ramuh's horse made a crotchety face: "A cold-blooded dragon who doesn't care for sentimentalities considering mortals. Who does not bind himself to men anymore; not even to one of Hydaelyn's chosen children. I was worried, that the young Raen might be just a means-to-an-end for you." Offended, Midgardsormr shook his head. "That might have been true in the very beginning when I just watched a pretty little mortal visiting my grave, but now I am far away from considering her as just a pawn!"

The dragon got impatient, so he almost screamed the last word.

Markab's ears and tail vellicated calmly. As if its owner was at ease... When the horse approached him afterwards, Midgardsormr scrutinized it nevertheless attentively. He wasn't trusting Primals – generally not. His muscles tensed when the creature summoned a small lightning-bolt in the air. "Do not fear." ,Ramuh said unconcerned, "This isn't meant to be an attack. Look closer at it."

The Methuselah did unwillingly what the patron of the Sylphs had asked for.

Admittedly, he was surprised when his eyes recognized a small whistle within the purple electricity. "An instrument? Why art thou giving this to me?" the disguised dragon questioned skeptical. Markab seemed to smile when the spirit within the horse answered: "I presume you're not yet owning a mount. Perhaps you could make use of my creation; at least for a while."

Wrinkling his nose, Midgardsormr stared at the whistle. Such dubious gift didn't make him happy... Who knew, how trustworthy the Primal's creature might be... But it was true, that 'Midge' didn't have a personal mount. So, at least sometimes he should consider calling Markab for help...

"I accept thy support for now..." ,the dragon-father gave demotivated in, "...albeit I see no reason why thou art willing to lend me thy quadruped." Ramuh sighed intensely: "My decision should be easy to comprehend... It's for your maiden. She's a wonderful mortal. Good influence. Just look how emotional you become when someone insults you of treating her like an object. … Her nature matches our immortal needs even though this makes her simultaneously unsympathetic for humans. … I would be glad to support her guardian."

"'Guardian'?!" Midgardsormr snapped and grabbed the whistle forcefully, so that an ordinary object would have cracked. "Is something wrong with this appellation?" the Primal wondered perplexed. "Of course it is! That's similar awful like the mortals' idea of me being a hero! I endangered Cecilia's life when I hesitated to do something in the Witchdrop. The shock and helplessness were paralyzing me back then...! Me and my useless puppet-form! … Nothing about this ancient being caged in a mortal facade matches the picture all of thee seem to have..."

Markab tipped with its muzzle against 'Midge's' shoulder.

The horse's master stated: "You are a dragon, but still it's a longer while ago that you were for the last time interacting with humans. Old-fashioned things like us shouldn't question their excitement. Also, if I understand you correctly, your admirers do not know anything about the trouble you had. Maybe you shouldn't pay attention to them as long as you do not plan to inform the mortals about the whole story."

Midgardsormr turned away from his conversational-partner: "Apologies... Existing in a mortal cage makes me hysterical..." Ramuh snickered lowly before his quadruped made a trilling tune. "I find it quite entertaining to watch the mighty Midgardsormr in a rather emotional state. In the past, seemingly, you weren't famous for sharing thoughts or feelings."

'Midge's' eyes widened immediately. Staring at the ground, the dragon asked muted: "Have I really become so different? Has this body altered my characteristics so much...?" "Does this knowledge unsettle you?" the Primal countered calmly. "... Perhaps." Midgardsormr replied soundless.

When he continued the patrol, Markab walked right behind him.

~C~

It was... a strange feeling.

Although adventurers seemed to be famous for having one, he couldn't get used to this...

A companion-animal. Not directly a battler like Chocobos, but still a creature always by his side. Though... this exemplar here wasn't normal. Apart from its colorful optic as well as the electricity, Markab was quite of a creepy horse with these empty eyes. When it brought him on the next day from one gathering-spot to another, 'Midge' couldn't help but feel nervous whenever he dismounted. Under the horse's unwillingly cold gaze, even an ancient dragon wasn't able to feel save...

Cecilia's Xanthos had already been unsettling, to be honest. But Markab's case was definitely worse. The accentuated contrast between a dark-purple body and yellow-white scleras frightened or rather provoked his draconic instincts if he thought too much about it.

Ramuh seemed to enjoy his distrust. The occasional moments in which the Primal's spirit decided to emerge from a dozing state, he seemed amused by Midgardsormr's struggle with the morbid horse. For example... When they went in the early evening back to Ishgard, the Sylph's patron joked about having made a rather silly decision – he should have created a Chocobo to possess a pleasant shell. This hoax annoyed the Methuselah, since a bird would probably also have been a scary creature, whereby he dismounted. But instead of feeling offended, his companion laughed easygoing.

Despite several nuisances, however, Ramuh wasn't acting too meddlesome. He also let his creature behave well. The horse vanished whenever 'Midge' made clear to not need support. It carried things with that long muzzle without complaints. And the quadruped threw the disguised dragon never from its back.

This almost polite restraint was welcome, to be honest.

After all, it felt sometimes as if the Primal was mocking Midgardsormr... He was far younger than the dragon, yet he seemed to make use of the current circumstance. Expressing amusement to watch the Primogenitor's humane cage; like a grandfather enjoyed telling a grandchild important things about life. With that misery, all signs of the Primal's good will were calming. They gave at least some kind of impression, that Ramuh could perhaps be trusted...

Well, there was another oddity...

Nobody seemed confused by 'Midge's' new mount.

Despite Markab's foreign appearance, the mortals weren't irritated when 'Midge' rode on its back. Although he had to be fair in this point... The Warrior's ignorance wasn't all too surprising. Adventurers were used to monsters and unusual phenomena. Their Scion-friends were also used to strange creatures. But... the people of Coerthas shouldn't act as if an ordinary horse passed by.

It was so unworldly... No matter if knight or civilians – all of them didn't even flinch when they saw Ramuh's creation. Talking with Erik about this illogical behavior, 'Midge' learned why everybody was behaving unfazed. Thanks to Xanthos, many people had already endured some kind of shock-therapy. Cecilia as well as Tammy had been riding very often on Garuda's horse once the Warriors were setting it free from the Primal's control. Additionally, Annika joined them a short while later with Titan's Gullfaxi, which the Whitemage-Lalafell preferred due to the earth-element. Anyways, the three women had been frustrating as well as over-straining Central Coerthas' inhabitants a lot in the past, thus Markab couldn't scare the population anymore.

Albeit he was glad to hear this, something else began to bother the Methuselah...

Reading the people's faces, they thought of him once more as a hero. Having an unnatural, elemental creature by his side turned him in their opinion into a god-slayer. Into one of the stronger kind of adventurer. And despite his remarkable improvement as a Lancer – considering Alberic's and Estinien's opinion – Midgardsormr didn't expect his vessel to keep up with a summoned deity. Pitiful, as it was compared to both Warriors as well as random freelancers, this Hyur-shape sufficed not for momentous clashes. The additional attention all these people gave 'Midge' made him therefore rather nervous instead of flattered.

Yet... Partly, the dragon wished to fit into that role of a capable adventurer. If he would have earned the right to call Markab by beating the Sylph's patron, this success would fill his chest with pride. Maybe also with a bit of gratification. After all, his aggression towards Primals wasn't all too much differing from his original disdain for mortals since Ratatoskr's death. He might have stopped praying with his full heart, that Ishgard shall be completely destroyed, but the illusions which Zodiark's servants brought into this world still deserved his entire hatred.

As the days passed, Midgardsormr got baffled.

Why wasn't Ramuh leeching any further aether than the amount his last summon had claimed? Initially, the Methuselah presumed Primals took in such compressed form only now and then a fresh load of energy. But to his surprise, Markab never absorbed a tiny magic-spark from its environment. As if the horse was the pure absence of life, it resembled rather zombies than breathing creatures.

Ironic to think like this about a quadruped with empty eyes...

When his skepticism became unbearable, the dragon questioned finally in the next evening Ramuh's unusual behavior. But instead of reacting abashed, the wise mage wasn't all too surprised about Midgardsormr's irritation. Ramuh had already expected such distrust before, thus he didn't mind to explain the situation for 'Midge'. Although the Primal couldn't swagger about the topic in general, fairly speaking. Others of his kind had so far not used a living vessel – as much as he knew.

However, in the far away East, it was for some gods absolutely normal to possess special objects and rest within these. While the Primals were hiding, no mortal could tell if there were even summoned deities around. Noticing any activity of these spirits would after all be a tough challenge, since they rarely needed any optional aether for existing. The compressed form of practically nothing more than a soul wasted no energy. And at least in Ramuh's case, mentioned concept worked also for existing in a living host-body.

After listening to this story, Midgardsormr admitted, that he hadn't been doing his research on different Primal-types very well in the past. His disdain prevented him from caring for the history plus abilities of each individual pseudo-god... While Ramuh didn't see this as a true problem in case of a dragon, the Methuselah was sure his former carefreeness had been a foolish thing to exercise. Paying more attention to such details – like humans already did, might in the end be the better tactic for immortals, as even the Primogenitor's own kind could become a victim of Primal-activities.

Above all, his mortal vessel- he was officially an adventurer. Helping others had become his duty, thus knowing everything about threats of humankind was part of the job. 'Midge' couldn't refrain from his tasks. He had wholeheartedly sworn to be there for the helpless.

Uttering this new, true devotion for humans without any concern surprised the father of dragon-kind in secret. Albeit he still disliked some of them as well as all the lies which Ishgard's history proclaimed to be facts, his stomach didn't hurt when he spoke of being a shield of mankind. Huh... Such altered belief was strange to experience...

Ramuh seemed to notice his confusion.

But the Sylph's patron was way longer than Midgardsormr a supporter of the Warriors of Light, whereby doubts weren't anymore part of the Primal's morale. Instead of questioning, Ramuh simply watched as well as enjoyed how spending time with mortals changed the ancient dragon slowly. Changed him to an extent... where 'Midge' entirely stopped thinking like one of his kind.

If it had been vice versa, probably Midgardsormr would do the same...

But the way it was, he struggled with feeling more and more bound to humans. Less and less connected to the draconic race. And albeit he wasn't truly alone, the persons who cared for 'Midge' weren't what he needed to overcome the hidden anxiety of a traitor. This knowledge, admittedly, made him even more worried.

~C~

His eyes were half-opened as he sat down on his preferred armchair.

Despite all the progress he made as a Lancer, Midgardsormr was still unable to get used to this mortal vessel. If he could change one aspect, then he would surely add more stamina to its traits... Several tasks in the early morning had proofed once again the body's lack of endurance. Thanks to that slight humiliation, he couldn't help but partly curse the weak shape...

Hmpf, how hilarious. Obviously the problem wasn't his vessel. Maybe dragons were just too spoiled by their powerful bodies as if they could appreciate a humane shell. After all, this shape sufficed for every single assignment. He could do whatever was necessary to get his jobs done. Furthermore, people admired him albeit he didn't see great achievements. They complimented this 'adventurer' on his skills – put him on a level with even the Warriors of Light. If many different mortals found 'Midge' vibrantly, then – probably – it might be necessary to share a little bit of their opinion.

Yawning, the Methuselah decided spontaneous to take a nap.

Of course lunchtime drew closer, yet a small portion of sleep appeared for now like the better idea... He had promised to gather in the afternoon several high-quality-metals for the Machinist-guild; without any possibility to revoke the mission once it was accepted. And with this set appointment, there would probably be no success if 'Midge' undertook his mission with a weakened corpus... Yes, he should definitely act reasonable before his stamina could quit.

Once his vessel's head leaned relaxed against the velvety bolster, tired eyes fell automatically down. With every muscle loosing its tension, Midgardsormr's mind drifted quickly away. Until noontime, no doctors would come and check the maiden's health-condition, thus the dragon was assured of having as much peace and quiet as he needed. Though...

His consciousness wasn't totally gone while the body was resting.

Despite the closed door, he could hear when knights and servants walked through the corridor.

Their quiet conversations didn't reach his ears in detail, but he noticed their voices nonetheless. Some of the words they made... It was embarrassing when they spoke about 'Midge' – unimportant, whatever the topic might be. The dragon-father had already realized, that Fortemps' subordinates were fond of him... They were clearly politer than the ordinary inhabitants who he had met so far, but even these reserved Elezen adored him.

In his sleep, he sighed muted. If there would just be a way to avoid all this exhausting admiration... The Methuselah felt good to help those who truly needed his support, but becoming famous or popular wasn't something that gave him a positive emotion. His dreams confronted him too often with humans who spoke in high terms of him. They praised 'Midge' as they closed in on him; making it impossible to flee.

This current nap wasn't in any aspect different... Although right now he was aware to be not awake. At night, on the other hand, sometimes he forgot these pictures were illusions created by his brain. Therefore, the fake-humans made Midgardsormr nervous and brought him even rarely to the point of waking up with a rushing drum in his chest.

He grumbled lowly as his corpus sank deeper into the bolster.

Even while taking a little slumber, the dragon was haunted by mortal problems...

Hopefully he would be soon used again for tracking some criminals down. Beating those persons helped him always a little bit to let go of his anxiety, even though the draconic aggression boiling in his veins was arguable good for him. But after spending a whole month as a Hyur, there were still many things he wasn't able to overcome. Hence, the Methuselah needed distraction on a level where he was able to be as brute as the situation allowed...

Not much time passed by as Midgardsormr slept.

With his stomach being rather empty, his nap ended earlier than he would like to. But even though he could no longer sleep, the dragon refused opening his eyes instantly and standing up. Just a little more rest would be good for his poor corpus... Only a short return to the land of dreams would mean a lot to him... Perhaps one positive falsehood created by his silly ancient brain that would ease his concerns... A short visit in the distant past... A glance at the blitheful childhood of his offspring... Or an illusion of the girl whose smile he missed so much...

… … …

He soared without gravity binding his draconic corpus.

Everything around him was black; not more than pure nothingness.

But a faint, white dot in the distance drew his attention. And Midgardsormr did immediately know, who was visiting him once more because of his shaken mental stability.

Longingly he watched, as the heavenly creature flew graceful through the void. His visitor resembled an entire fluffy feather when it came down to him; its puffy tail unfolding like smoke in the air. As the creature approached him unsettling close, the father of dragon-kind trembled when these silvery claws touched his long ears. When this round nose of its long muzzle brushed slightly over his nostrils.

Pale eyes with pointed lens forced him to look at the former savior's face. Irises of a misty lake with light-blue scleras that could compel him to do whatever their owner wanted... Their very gaze caused a shudder all over Midgardsormr's long spine... This angelic wyvern looked as severely as if it tried to tell him something important. Tried to tell him the most important wisdom of the world.

But before it- Before HE could, the dream made the white dragon vanish.

… … …

"Where... am I...?"

A soft voice. Fragile like the beat of a butterfly's wings. Slightly hoarse as if not used for a while. Midgardsormr didn't see anything in the dark of his crumbling dream, but the Methuselah felt like he recognized this tune somehow. It was familiar... Decoding the reason for this feeling was unfortunately not the easiest task to undertake with a slumberous head...

"And... who are you...?"

His mind emerged instantly from its dozy state.

Starting to shiver with a good portion of his vessel, Midgardsormr couldn't breath for a moment. Was he hallucinating...? Well, of course he must be slightly insane. It was after all an evil hoax of his subconsciousness! Right...? No, this couldn't be real! … But the heartbeat in the vessel's chest was so intense, that he needed to contemplate the reality with his own eyes. The increasing disquiet had to end... just as his sleepiness, which must anyways vanish due to his duties.

Slowly raising the lids, he stared directly at an odd-colored wonder.

~C~

Midgardsormr's mind was... blank. Emptier than the rumbling stomach he got.

His eyes widened in mental overload, while a crystal and a jewel studied him in amazement. Although, worry shone within their expression in the very second his body began to shake entirely... The Methuselah's mouth was dry when he inhaled sharply under this attentive gaze – his eyes meanwhile busy with trying to get the information to his consciousness... The ancient mind refused initially to believe such insane phantasm, but that voice convinced it of having indeed no dream: "Are you okay...? You look... confused. Anything... wrong?"

A miracle... An unbelievable miracle...

The maiden was awake.

He had often imagined this moment... But now – as it truthfully happened – words failed him. So, he could do nothing else but staring overwhelmed at the Raen as his vessel's shaking became worse. She watched his tremolo with the sorrow of an exhausted Whitemage who could currently not help, yet seemed a little bit calmed when he got a grip and bore the quake down.

However, there was skepticism next to her curiosity as the two of them looked at each others faces. Surely waking up with a stranger next to her was hard... To have no idea what was going on...

His eyes seemed to attract her attention at the most. She scrutinized his gaze with a combination of negative irritation as well as positive gentleness; the sensations switching places over and over. Midgardsormr hoped to not unsettle her in any way with these dim orbs, since he clearly doubted their shimmer could be controlled in case this odd trait happened...

Meanwhile, he could see the Raen's useless effort to raise her head in order to take a better look at his face... It must truly be frightening for mortals to haven't been awake since a month.

Gulping, 'Midge' finally attempted to give Cecilia – despite intense stuttering – some information: "Th-This room here be-belongs to Fo-Fortemps' mansion. A-After the li-life-threatening accident in Ce-Central Coerthas, the Co-Count insisted on y-your stay at the vi-villa so that your sta-state of health could stabilize. Fo-Four weeks have pa-passed si-since you fell into the Wi-Witchdrop."

The stammer was worse than expected...

Ashamed of his lacking self-esteem, he lowered his head. Staring at tensed hands on his knees, Midgardsormr didn't know why he was so afraid of speaking to the maiden. But at least... one thing hadn't changed... He was still able to say 'you' when it was for addressing her.

After a short silence, she inquired: "What about... you...? I still do not know... who you are..." Biting the lower lip noticeable, he pressed the thighs together. How was he supposed to answer...? Cecilia's following smile about his misery was audible. He didn't need to look up in order to know, how beautiful this view must be... The mien of an angel. "Don't be anxious..." ,the girl said with a soothing sound, "If Haurchefant's father... wouldn't trust you... you'd be not here. So you're surely... a trustworthy guy."

Hesitantly, 'Midge' glanced up. "I am not sure... if the answer will be to THY liking." he whispered and felt the crimson glow emerge. Anxiety slipped over her face as she watched his irises burning like a candle, so he looked quickly down once more.

It hadn't been his intention to scare Cecilia... but the chaotic feelings stirring inside of him were hard to keep in check a fortiori his nerviness became stronger. He had been aching to hear her voice at least for one last time... To see her smile and to feel the attention of her eyes... With his wish coming abruptly true while his shape was foreign to her, he didn't know the appropriate thing to do for letting his precious mortal see through Hydaelyn's granted facade. That was... IF doing so would even be a correct way to handle the situation... Part of him doubted, that troubling the maiden in any aspect would be a good idea as long as her body was weakened.

He jerked when the Raen spoke muted: "You're no human... Your real body is normally scaly... Much more than mine... And you own in truth a pair of wings and a long tail... You got large ears, too... A bit like fins are... Am I correct...?" Though his heart was almost jumping out of his throat, he nodded quietly. Apparently she was already beginning to understand...

"What happened...?" ,the girl asked quietly, "Why does a dragon chain itself to a mortal body...?" Her perplexity mixed with sprouting worry was tickling his horrible old-man-humor. A shy smile flitted over his lips when he recalled how much he had missed this rare occasion. Lifting his head, 'Midge' stated slightly grinning: "That's easy to explain. I... couldn't stand the thought of losing you. My whole existence denied the bare idea of spending never again time with you. So I let Her grace take my draconic powers away... as well the last sparks of the gift she had once bestowed upon me... in exchange for a way of saving your life."

Cecilia's eyes widened in shock. "You have... sacrificed so much... just for me...?"

A few seconds passed. Then, she gazed at him with sad irises which reflected the daylight suspiciously strong. Drops glistened on her black eyelashes. "Stupid old dragon..." she murmured with an unhappy weak smile and made it somehow to move the right hand onto her face. Following, desperation slipped over the visible parts of her mien.

Midgardsormr was surprised by her reaction. To see such straightforward guilt-feelings wasn't what he had expected. He would have bet on anger as well as her usual sense of justice, but not on sorrow and tears. Reaching out, he cautiously touched the back of her hand. "Don't try to cheer me up..." ,she snapped – as much as her weakened body allowed, "I'm sick of people who try to rescue me even if that means mutilating themselves..."

Frowning, the Methuselah regretted once more to know not many things about Cecilia's past... There must have been severe moments in her life, which were in charge for the maiden being noticeably afraid of turning into someone who needed to be saved...

He left the position on his armchair.

Slowly kneeling down next to the bed, he leaned his face against her hand. Albeit the vessel's heart was pounding unbearably, the disguised dragon-father mumbled straightforward: "I have longed for your awakening... You can't imagine how much... The fear of losing you was an abyss that threatened to consume me every single moment I was forced to spend this existence without you. Please... Do not reject me when all I want is just comforting you..."

The Methuselah withdrew against his will when he felt this silky hand slipping from her eyes. Cecilia gazed shyly at him with wet irises that flickered under emotional pressure, but nevertheless there lay warmth in both crystal and jewel. Not only guilt was ready to take her over... Fondness- Affection dwelled in her weakened body as well.

As he realized this, he couldn't keep the raising temperature of his cheeks down. The darkened hue must be quite visible... Embarrassed by the surprised expression her face made, the Methuselah returned to his usual spot in this room. While he leaned his back against the bolster, the maiden sipped a little on her lower lip as if she was considering something complex. It was admittedly odd, that she didn't dare to immediately do whatever she might have in mind...

Was his vessel turning him into a stranger in her opinion, perhaps...? Not willingly, of course... There was no reason to blame her for having trouble with his unusual form...

"So... What's your human-name?" she innocently interrupted his line of thought, albeit he could tell the maiden felt more curiosity than she demonstrated. Chuckling lowly, the Methuselah answered: "It's a bit silly... I didn't know what men wouldn't find suspicious when questioning my appellation, so my choice was uninspired... You probably won't remember the example you gave me once..."

"Midge Luminae." she said instantly. Her memorization was remarkable, but it seemed the Raen was just as astonished as he was. Cecilia's big eyes studied him for a moment, before she finally regained her ability to speak: "W-Why... did you choose my... carefree combination of sur- and family-name? Someone like you... should wear an appellation more... dignified." Hah, amusing... She thought still highly of him... "As I told you... I am not good in understanding mortal quirks plus your conceptions." ,the dragon told her slightly smiling, "Furthermore... It was a name you had indirectly given me. Going by this felt at least somehow right."

She turned her face a little away. "Your taste is awful... You must be dense... Or senile... Feverish..." the Raen complained muted. Midgardsormr couldn't help but laugh a little. Oh, how he had missed the way she sulked... The way she treated him as one of her kind... As a real friend... Two tears ran over his cheeks while he deeply inhaled the awareness of her restored consciousness.

~C~

Suddenly, a resolute knock on the door occurred.

'Midge' nearly jumped out of his skin because he hadn't expected that...

"Y-Yes?" the disguised dragon called hastily. "Excuse me, Monsieur Luminae, but-" a servant was about to say while entering the room, when the view of the awake maiden caught him off-guard. "Oh my, am I hallucinating?" the Elezen asked with his left hand hiding his mouth. "Uhm, no... You're not." the maiden replied with an embarrassed smile on her lips. She seemed to overwhelm the good man with her answer, but quickly he came back to senses. Bowing down, the Elezen said: "Mademoiselle Shirone, it's a pleasure to see you safe and sound again! The Count will be so glad when he hears of the miracle! … A-Am I allowed to spread the news of your recovery now...?"

Trying to sit up without success, Cecilia uttered grinning: "I wouldn't call that already 'recovery', but feel free to tell everyone about it. … That's okay for you, Midge?" Mentioned 'Hyur' wasn't used to her seeking so openly for his permission – in front of any present men – yet he didn't mind her consideration. Quite the opposite, in fact... "Please inform our allies about her state of health." the Methuselah nodded calmly.

After the Elezen had left the room, Cecilia turned her attention back to Midgardsormr.

"As we're again alone... What were you meanwhile doing? While I was... sleeping, to be precise." She obviously avoided the word 'coma'... Well, nobody would blame a person who was frightened because of that condition. Even Whitemages like her were allowed to fear untreatable sicknesses. "I... accepted your brother's advice in order to be preferably inconspicuous. I became an adventurer. A... gatherer..." the dragon responded hesitantly; afraid to reveal the story's rest.

Cecilia looked at him as if a rare creature would be right in front of her. "Seriously? No joke...?" "No joke, maiden." ,he declared smiling, "My struggle with your usual undertaking was severely, yet I did my best to become an accepted companion of your friends."

Her brows were lifted while she tried to grasp what he had told her. This view made him happier. "When you say 'advice'... Does this mean Erik supported you all this time...?" the Au Ra questioned and scrutinized him irritated. "As unbelievable as it might be, he was indeed quite often by my side. Thanks to him, many things went well in the last four weeks. And albeit I presume Erik himself should inform you about it... He knows who I am."

Blinking a few times, Cecilia silently reflected on his explanation.

"So that's why he took willingly care of an amateur... If he hadn't helped you... maybe the two of us wouldn't be able to converse now." she concluded quickly. Midgardsormr nodded partly amused: "Yes, I would have been lost... Not only for Ishgard's law, but also because I'm a terrible mortal. … This kind of life is for dragons very unusual. Such... bodies are unnatural." "Did you have lots of trouble with your new shell?" the maiden worried. "I would be a liar if I said 'No.', but there are worse things in the world than getting accustomed to a humane vessel. I'm able to handle this form; at least sufficiently to complete tasks without causing chaos." he responded relaxed.

Abruptly, loud footsteps echoed through the corridor.

That servant before had clearly done a good job in spreading the novelty swiftly...

Midgardsormr honestly regretted this in silence, but he wouldn't keep the maiden for himself. Thus, he was glad for the one who entered now – completely out of breath – the chamber. Actually, Haurchefant boomed into the room like an explosion; with eyes as giant as those of a little child. Wearing not his usual armor but ordinary clothes any non-royal with a better position would own, the nicest of the three Fortemps-sons sprinted to Cecilia's bed.

"Haurchefant-" was all she could say, because the knight hugged her tightly. "I'm so glad you're finally awake...! You can't imagine how worried I was..." the man said before a sniff escaped him. Cecilia returned as good as possible the embrace – sacrificing visibly energy for moving her arms, yet smiling softly in happiness. A shame they weren't a couple...

When the Elezen retired just a little bit from her, one simple look at the maiden's adorable face seemed to bewitch him entirely. All politeness out of the window, the knight leaned fast forward. There lay yet no force in his doing. When he kissed her, it was as cautious as gentlemen would do. Even more beautiful than Aymeric's affection for Erik... Anyways, Cecilia blushed in rosy color. Both crystal and jewel widened in singlehearted astonishment. She didn't answer her friend, but also didn't struggle against the emotional outburst...

Watching them, Midgardsormr blinked several times.

He didn't know how to handle this situation... or what to feel right now.

The Fortemps-knight let only slowly go of the Au Ra. But once Haurchefant came back to senses, he reacted quite panic-fueled. "I-I-I am so sorry...!" the Elezen stuttered scared by himself – bowing several times down to her as if the wrath of a noble woman awaited him. Although... it didn't seem she would be punishing him... Confusion spread over Cecilia's face; her friend's nervousness not appearing logical in the maiden's opinion. She had no idea, why a kiss should be bad.

"Shouldn't you apologize to somebody else, too?" a criticizing statement from the door's direction stopped Haurchefant's rash, physical apologies. While the swordsman next to her made a guilty face when he stood still, the Au Ra noticed partly stunned her second companion's presence: "Estinien...? You're here...?" A tiny smirk scurried beneath the black helmet over these thin lips. "Hey Cec. Long time no see."

Cecilia had surely expected Erik in lieu of the Azure Dragoon... Just as Midgardsormr was rather counting on her personal brother... But perhaps, that surprise was less important for now; for her. While the Fortemps-knight acted – as much as she could tell – very strange. Her attention, at least, lay quickly once more on mentioned blue-haired ally.

That man cleared his throat, nodded with a frustrated glance at the Dragoon and turned afterwards to 'Midge'. "I didn't plan to kiss her. Please do not feel betrayed by my action. It wasn't my intention nor my wish to trample onto your rights. The joy to see her awake just blinded for a short moment this sense we should my conscience expect to be. I apologize for my mistake." the knight said; bowing deeply down as if his spine was made of rubber.

Midgardsormr was flustered when abruptly six eyes scrutinized him.

The two men in combination with Cecilia were hard to bear as they eagerly waited for his answer... Both Elezen simply wanted to hear a reaction – his precious maiden, however, was irritated by the entire situation. Well... Partly, it was his own fault. The dragon-father should have told her, probably, what this pseudo-brother of hers was telling everybody...

"It's... It's okay..." ,he tried to calm Haurchefant albeit strengthening Erik's lie was against his will, "So far, I do not feel like I deserve the... status I was granted with. To be... accepted by Cecilia... was pure luck. And there happened so far... nothing between her and me, which would already justify any anger towards thee... Hence, thou didn't outreach a frontier."

The worried Fortemps-son appeared glad to hear these words.

But Estinien clicked his tongue in snarky manner. 'Midge's' reaction did obviously not satisfy him. And other, than the still confused maiden, her cynical companion was energetic enough to voice every displeasure. "Loverboy, altruism is in matter of one's girlfriend not the best idea. Other guys could misunderstand this as your weakness. Could then try to steal what is yours. So, you better fix these self-esteem-issues – pronto – before it's too late."

The Methuselah gazed embarrassed at the floor.

It wasn't directly for Estinien's insult, though, that he could no longer endure the heed of three men. Rather, because of Cecilia's irritated eyes which were now urgently searching for his own, Midgardsormr couldn't stand this moment any longer.

Down-to-earth, the Azure Knight added: "Tho', it doesn't look like you have to do this yourself... Erik's boasting of your relationship may already scare all thieves away, since they wouldn't dare to annoy such cantankerous Marauder. As long as he approves you as the guy of his beloved sister, anybody trying to steal Cecilia could end up under his axe. … Well, never mess with his friends – especially not when he blesses their wish to be his sister's mate."

The pressure in 'Midge's' tense muscles began to hurt...

He should really have prepared her ASAP for the situation in which they had gotten into...

Midgardsormr jerked, when suddenly Cecilia's left hand lay on his right one. Gazing abashed at her, he saw an understanding smile in this beautiful mien as the two of them held eye-contact. She was... in the most positive way stubborn... To reach physically out for him, although her body must suffer under the slightest exhaustion, had a strong impact on the dragon.

"Erik is a bit too overhasty when it comes to me." ,she declared as her gaze slipped to both Elezen, "I would have preferred telling everyone myself, that I fished a nice boy and intend to keep him, you know? What my brother did wasn't fair." The narcissistic Dragoon nodded: "Battle-axe-bearers tend to be rude. They don't reconsider their steps before they make them." "That sounds correct. Perhaps I should hit Erik a little with my weapons. Thrash some sense for privacy into his head for being such a loudmouth." she joked – at least Midgardsormr hoped it was a hoax.

Haurchefant tried to keep a chuckle down while stating: "He was maybe unorthodox, but Erik tried to help Midge out. If we hadn't known, that the later was a close friend of yours and even more, possibly Ishgard wouldn't have allowed him to enter. As Erik's buddy, at least, Midge would rather not obtain an allowance to enter the Holy City."

"Screw those antique laws." ,Estinien scoffed, "They are just a burden to everyone. All they do is making things more complicated and harder for Aymeric. When I left Ishgard with the Eye against their stupid order, it was the best thing that could have happened." The Dragoon looked at Cecilia with a serious- perhaps sulking mien, which Midgardsormr believed to soften in the very second Estinien's eyes found her smile.

With less cynicism he changed the topic: "You know... Your boy was diligent while you took that long beauty-sleep. Counts not only for his preferred fishing, actually. Apart from gathering metals and herbs as if there was no tomorrow, Midge obtained a new career. He's now Alberic's student – and praised like a demi-god; even as a newcomer-Lancer."

Oh no... NO...!

~C~

Cecilia scrutinized Estinien at first as if she distrusted her ears or his sanitary.

But the Elezen's seriousness let her realize none of them was mistaken. So, the maiden's gaze switched to Midgardsormr; eyes widely open. Shock lingering in both crystal and jewel. Ah... Well, of course this information would be shaking her attentive worldview... No dragon would per will even think about touching the weapon which plagued their kind since one millennium...

Ashamed of himself, the Methuselah squinted the lids.

The Fortemps-knight seemed to see partially through their misery, because he tried to interfere: "Yet, it wasn't his intention to become a Lancer. When Midge helped Alberic to support the training of a few young Dragoons, hazard and not motivation made him demonstrate how talented he is. However, even Estinien thinks highly of his skills, so you can say we all pushed him into this job. And with that, please don't believe Midge chose in blue-eyed manner an optional adventurer-path. He was for sure not airily abandoning his philosophy of avoiding violence."

Raising his lids minimal, 'Midge' watched Cecilia's visible struggle.

This went also not unnoticed by Haurchefant, who tried once more to convince the Raen.

"Please give him a chance! In fact, when Alberic and me conversed for the last time, he revealed something important. See, the old master considers turning Midge soon into a Dragoon." Midgardsormr could hear, how the breath in Cecilia's throat caught. He himself should be shocked to learn of that novelty, but her abhorrence consumed his entire awareness.

"Would be anyways time for this step." ,Estinien commented, "Midge is already stronger than ordinary freshmen. He's also surpassing the adventurer-skills you and Erik had back then, when we met for the first time. So in other words, not giving him a Soul-Crystal comes close to idiocy." "Definitely I agree on that! Above all, fighting all the time with this basic-comrade by our side becomes slowly embarrassing for the whole gang." a familiar voice joked.

"Speaking of a devil." the Azure Knight grinned when the Warrior's Leader stepped into the room. "Doesn't this 'compliment' rather match yourself?" the wolf-like man right behind Erik muttered; earning Estinien's glare. However, both Hyur made surprised miens when they saw an awake Raen. Funny... The bare news of her awakening had perhaps not entirely sufficed to convince them. Skepticism, admittedly, which nobody would condemn. However, now they were free of doubt.

"Hey brother. Hello Cid." she greeted them with a mischievous smile.

As the two Hyur tried to stomach the shock as well as hugged Cecilia tightly, another Elezen entered the chamber. It was the servant from before. "I'm sorry to inform you, but I couldn't reach the other Warriors. Monsieur Alphinaud and Mademoiselle Tataru are also not present in Ishgard." he reported dutifully. "Meh, they'll return anyways in the evening. And Augustine?" the Marauder asked as he withdrew from his sister. "Mademoiselle Valentia was sent to Tailfeather in Dravania. As much as I heard, she will not come back in the next two days."

Erik raised the brows: "Speaking about the Forelands... Heh Midge, hadn't the Machinist-guild asked for some high-quality metals? If you want me to, I could get them, so that you are able to stay for the rest of the day with Ceci." Midgardsormr was speechless by this offering, yet was afterwards cut off before he had even the chance to respond: "Apologies to interrupt, but... Monsieur Luminae, what I originally meant to tell you was the cancellation of the Machinist-guild's request. A merchant sold them today the needed materials for an acceptable price, so your help became dispensable. Hopefully, you aren't upset because of my omission to instantly notify you..."

'Midge' blinked perplexed.

This was the first time any client annulled a task for him... What a strange feeling; disappointment. Although – when the disguised dragon reflected on the advantage it delivered – he didn't regret this. It was welcome to him. He could just not exult, as there was probably a little disadvantage, too... Depending on Cecilia's angrily judgment...

"I... I am not upset... Rather, I thank thee for informing me about it..." the antique being murmured, which made the aged servant smile gladly. Cid, meanwhile, chuckled gently: "Hehe, look at this. You must be quite happy when worlds fail you. And it's indeed really nice when somebody cancels a job with the right timing. … Yet, I wonder, if we all are not disturbing the two of you."

Glancing at the irate maiden, Midgardsormr would have loved to say immediately 'Of course not.', but he owed her an explanation. A clarification that could only be given when nobody else was here. With that, he didn't dare to protest when she said: "If it's okay, I would like to speak with Midge about his new adventurer-career. There are... several things he must define more precisely for me... Albeit you guys don't need to worry too much about it; I'm not planning to behead him."

"Tsk, at least I would not recommend to kill him after I had risked my own head." her brother complained half-hearted. The engineer smiled: "Go easy on him, please. He helped us in Abalathia to regain some stolen tools, so I'd feel bad if you should punish him." "The same counts for me, too. In Central Coerthas, he was supporting our work. Actually, he was helping wherever he could. Please put not too much guilt onto his shoulders for doing this." Haurchefant begged before he left the chamber; together with both Hyur as well as the servant.

Estinien studied Cecilia and 'Midge' with skeptical eyes underneath that black helmet. Obviously, the cynic unwilling to let them alone. Part of the Methuselah prayed he wouldn't change his mind... "Ey, would you show at least now some manners? Or do you intend to disturb a couple's privacy, Mister Wyrmblood?" Cid called from the corridor. Mentioned Elezen snapped: "And lower myself to the standard of Marauders? For what are you mistaking me?!" "HEY, if you want to insinuate, that you consider me a pig, then we should discuss that outside!" Erik called impatient.

Abruptly, the Azure Knight started moving – and created therefore even more nervousness within Midgardsormr's chest. This wasn't good... Not good at all... A fortiori these feet carried the Dragoon to the exit, the Methuselah could hardly control his heartbeat.

"Let him alive, Cec." Estinien stated as he was about to close the door behind himself.

"I'll try." she huffed lowly with angered eyes; making the Elezen chuckle.

~C~

Inhaling, the disguised dragon closed the lids.

Her reproachful gaze hurt way too much on his face...

Clawing with his fingers into the armchair, Midgardsormr realized something... He had forgotten, how much her anger could resemble the wrath of his own kind. Rage that he was able to fear...

Cecilia waited patiently until no echo was anymore audible in the corridor, but then she unleashed her indignation as much as her weakened body allowed: "Seriously?! A lance...?! Couldn't you have picked ANY other weapon but this one...?! How do you even plan to fight Nidhogg's dragons? It's not like you could avoid them when Alberic even thinks about turning you into a Dragoon! Sooner or later, you WILL have to battle against your descendants no matter if you refuse doing so! And don't even try to whitewash the situation...!"

He did not know the reason for her outburst.

It was impossible for him to tell, why his choice enraged the maiden on a personal level.

But with all these days passing by without her by his side, the Methuselah was even urging for such moments in which he was helpless under Cecilia's incomprehensible sentiments. Opening his eyes, he tried to illustrate his motives: "I couldn't risk anything. Every reaction making me suspicious in mortal eyes had to be avoided. Especially when it was for these things that could reveal the age of the spirit within this vessel. So I just did whatever people wanted me to do."

Her expression became mockingly – almost evil: "In other words, you made yourself not a proud adventurer who makes his choices freely, but a cheap slut without an own will. You bowed down to us foolish humans and swallowed every pain down which that behavior might have caused for you. Tss, you would have made a better choice if you had let me simply rot in the Witchdrop."

Eyes burning suddenly as if they were on crimson fire, the disguised dragon stood irately up.

"Do you really think I could be so cold and dead inside?! Do you expect from me to ignore you when your life is in danger?!" ,he almost screamed in horror, "The sheer pain to see you in a coma was choking me! I almost failed to save your life because I couldn't think clearly under all the panic and despair...! I felt like dying myself when I realized I was about to lose you FOREVER...!"

Cecilia didn't flinch under his open wrath. Rather the opposite happened...

Just as back then in Western Coerthas, true compassion spread over her face. "You willingly became a pure traitor of your kind... only for making sure you could save my life..." she whispered almost not audible. Nodding, he knelt down next to her head. Still panting and slightly shivering because of his overreacting heartbeat. The irises lost slowly their stinging glow, isochronal.

The maiden watched him as he recovered with compassionate, sad eyes.

A gaze... that looked even more ancient than his own.

Midgardsormr tried to smile for her, but couldn't bring himself to raising the corners of his mouth. With that, it appeared talking was the only option to soothe her worries. If that was even possible... "Fortunately, I have so far not faced one of my grandchildren... That's the only 'unacceptable' thing which I can tell you about my promotion to a bearer of the lance. Other than that, however, I have truly become Alberic's student." the dragon shrived.

Hesitantly touching strands of her white-golden hair, he furrowed his brows just as the maiden did. "But why not anything else...? Why of all things this class...? You must be consumed by guilt for even gripping a lance..." she assumed correctly. Sighing, his fingers brushed over her forehead when he replied: "My vessel can't accumulate aether. To make it more clear... Obviously this shape isn't meant to use magic. I would have loved to support you as an Astrologian, but this wish will most likely stay a dream I cannot fulfill as long as I am bound to this corpus. … A body which... most probably I will accompany when its time on this planet is over."

Cecilia looked at him as if he had broken her heart. Such agonized expression in her mien was unusual for the Au Ra... This time able to smile a little, the dragon stated: "As I said before... I have traded everything away which I could give Her grace in exchange for strength that allowed me to save you from death. The Echo's last extant sparks I still possessed including. And with these drops, I think I might have lost the ability of transcendence."

She closed her eyes in pain. Listening to the uneven heartbeat in her chest, Midgardsormr could nevertheless not help but be glad to see her awake again. It had been a big boulder on his shoulders to not know how she might react to his changed existence. A weight the father of dragon-kind slowly lost a fortiori he could just be with her.

He wished... she could see it...

Could see the intense joy her simple reawakening brought him...

Carefully leaning his lips against her left temple, he tried to cheer the maiden up: "Your Raen-friend is a wonderful stubborn healer... Augustine doesn't accept my lack of magic and gives therapy to this vessel in every single evening. It was also her eager suggestion to turn me into an Astrologian, so if you find this silly dream of mine ridiculous, feel free to blame her for putting this thought into my head. Without her, probably I would never have considered wishing for this magic."

He was flustered when suddenly her left hand landed on the back of his neck.

Glancing at him, the beautiful girl murmured with a shaky voice: "Midgard... Are you really sure that I was worth all the effort you must have put into this camouflage-body? Can you really live with the possibility of staying for the rest of your existence in a mortal cage?"

Narrowing both crystal and jewel, she watched him in desperation when his lids sank relaxed down. "Yes... Yes, I am sure." he whispered and placed softly a fond kiss onto her forehead. Afterwards, Cecilia sobbed muted and even began to cry – a view so gorgeous that it touched his heart deeply.

A mortal creature mourning a dragon's sacrifice...

He could truly grasp why Hraesvelgr had fallen for Shiva.

Chuckling in his awful old-man-humor, the Methuselah gently embraced his precious maiden. Fundamentally relieved to feel all of a sudden her tired arms which held him as well. And when Cecilia whispered his full name, his heart ultimately rejoiced.