This is something I wrote years ago before the release of Shadowbringers needing to explore a bit deeper. I recently went over and cleaned it up, and decided it is finally time it sees the light of day. It is a bit self indulgent seeing I use my own WoL as always, but I hope you enjoy it still.

As always it is also posted on AO3 under same name.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The sound of steel clashing with steel echoes through the smoky air as the razor sharp edge of a well honed katana strikes the sleek yet sturdy shaft of a spear. Estinien does not hesitate. Using the confusion of his opponent to his advantage he quickly grabs his friend, the Warrior of Light himself before he as the skilled dragoon he is jumps out of there before the would be Zenos can react.

Thick acrid smoke and stray embers dances around him as he flees, the extra weight of his companion not hindering his jumps in the slightest. After making some distance making sure he isn't followed he slows to a sudden stop on top of a derelict long crashed garlean gunship. One of many in this land long lost to the ravages of war, a land known as the Ghimlyt Dark.

Deeming himself and his companion relatively safe for the time being he gently lowers his friend down onto the rusted metal, propping him up with an arm held securely around his shoulders, him being all limp in his grip.

"Y'sato!" He swiftly calls, looking for any signs of his friend stirring but the young miqo'te doesn't respond. Not even a faint twitch from one of his ears, his eyes closed, no tension to be seen in his expression. In fact he hasn't moved or made a sound since Estinien pulled him away from the clutches of death. The sight of his companion laying this still and unresponsive in his arms has worry start to pool in his gut, but he can tell he is still breathing at least and after a quick cursory glance Estinien is heartened to find he doesn't seem to be too injured.

"Out like a light I see. Well...I suppose we all have our limits."

Still feeling worry for his friend but knowing he shouldn't linger he makes ready to stand tightening his grip around his unconscious companion.

I should get him to our chirugeons, to Aymeric. There he will be safe, I trust no other.

With poised grace he makes ready to jump, Y'sato now cradled securely to his chest. He intends to go to the Alliance barracks stationed at the border of the Ghimlyt, hoping he will find Aymeric there. However he doesn't need to search long since after just a couple jumps he spots the telltale regal gold and blue of Aymeric's armour in the dark gloom, no doubt the Commander himself aims to assist the Warrior of Light with his adversary in any way he and his small unit of temple knights can, not knowing they are already too late.

Good thing I decided to follow, to keep an eye on him...

Estinien doesn't 't dare think what would have come to pass otherwise. It had been too close, way too close for comfort...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Hold on my friend. We are coming. The battered muddy ground squelches loudly under his steel clad feet, the oppressive relentless gloom of this battlefield threatening to suck the very air out of his lungs but Aymeric pays it no heed. His friend is out there, most likely fighting against the Ascian parading around as Zenos alone as they speak and the thought of it has him reeling. He knows very well he shouldn't feel this way. He knows Y'sato to be strong, having single handedly defeated many a powerful opponent before. Thordan, Nidhogg, even Zenos. Yet he can't stop this nagging feeling in his chest, the clawing at his heart because he knows circumstances now are different. Back then Y'sato had the Scions to ever have his back, Alphinaud and Alisaie always there to help share the burden but now, they all have fallen to a seemingly incurable sleeping affliction no one seems to be able to find the answers too. A calling, a mysterious voice that has tormented his friend's every waking hour. Aymeric had seen it, and most recently too when Alisae was the one to bite the dust. Y'sato himself had been the one to carry her back to camp and despite trying to look strong, too look determined Aymeric hadn't failed to see what he had truly been feeling. It had all been there plain in his eyes. The fear, the pain, the anger. He was a trembling mess and when Hien had tried to offer some comfort the distraught Warrior had lashed out, and understandably so.

If only I could do more to help you, to show you you are not alone...

A sudden figure making its presence known makes Aymeric skid to a sudden halt, sword at the ready. His unit does much the same, all prepared for battle.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" A tense moment hangs in the air as the dust settles, the ever oppressing gloom not making matters easier for him to discern their apparent foe. Aymeric's eyes widens however when he finally recognizes the long white silvery locks of the man now standing before him. A man he least of all expected to see here, on the fields of battle malms away from Ishgard. The former Azure Dragoon himself.

"Estinien! But how? Why?"

The dragoon remains silent, moving to gently lower something to the ground and it is first then the full scope of the situation hits Aymeric.

"No... By the Fury, please no!" Aymeric doesn't think as he rushes forth. He recognises this figure, the ever valiant Warrior of Light, his stoutest ally and friend, now laying motionless face down on the ground. He feels his heart sink at the sight. Falling to his knees he reaches a trembling hand out for his presumably fallen friend, for Y'sato.

"What Happened?" Struggling to keep himself composed he looks up to the dragoon, meeting his eyes, searching for solace. Hoping against all odds his friend might still be alive. "Please, tell me!"

"He faltered in battle," The dragoon finally says, his gaze never leaving Aymeric's before he continues, "Against Zenos I may add, nay, the Ascian." The contempt in Estinien's voice doesn't elude Aymeric's ears yet his words grants no comfort, the poorly hidden worry he can see in the Dragoons eyes making the situation even worse. The icy knot in his chest grows tighter, his gaze falling back to his motionless friend. He feels his composure start to fall apart by the seams.

"Th-then he is-"

"He yet lives, but if I had been but a second too late...Well the blade would have found it's mark..."

Scarcely believing it Aymeric looks up, eyes wide. His hand still trembling he reaches out for Y'sato's neck looking for a pulse. More to comfort himself and to still his racing heart. He doesn't doubt Estininien's words, and yet feeling his friend's skin still being warm to the touch Aymeric finally feels his dread lessen, steadily for every beat from Y'sato's heart he can so surely feel under his fingertips. He lets out a breath, finally able to breathe easier.

"You have my immense gratitude, Estinien. I do not dare think what I would have done if he indeed had fallen." A smile carrying the magnitude of the relief he feels on his lips he looks up to the dragoon who graces him with an earnest smile of his own in kind.

"Think nothing of it. After all I do owe him a debt and I can't have my partner die on me now can I?"

"Truly." Smile still gracing his lips, Aymeric finds his gaze back on Y'sato again who has yet to stir, newfound determination in his eyes. "I will take him to our chirugeons. On that you have my word."

"And I appreciate it. He couldn't have been in better hands. As for me..." Aymeric raises a brow at the dragoon trailing off, "I have an Ascian to hunt. Tell him I send my regards."

"Estininen. Wait!" Sensing the dragoon's intent Aymeric calls out but it is already too late. As soon as the dragoon had bid his farewells as soon he is gone again. All in one swift powerful dragoon jump, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake.

"Take care my friend, and again you have my thanks."

"We should get back to the barracks Commander. We shouldn't linger."

The sudden voice from one his knights to his left jostles him out of his thoughts but not for long.

"Yes you are right, forgive me. Send word to our chirugeons. I want them all on hand ready to receive him."

"Yes Commander!"

His orders given and a couple men from his unit already en route Aymeric focuses again on his friend who still remains just as motionless and unresponsive in front of him. He has already decided he will be the one to carry him.

"Please allow me to grant you this one favour." He says although he knows Y'sato most likely can't hear him. Not knowing the extent of his injuries he carefully rolls him over to his back, one hand on his shoulder and one on his hip. The young miqo'te still doesn't stir, not even a twitch, his eyes closed, every muscle fully relaxed. His black leather armour is scuffed in places, his blond hair streaked with dirt and Aymeric finally glimpses the gash in his side, running from just bellow his ribs down to his hip and it is still bleeding slightly. It looks like only the thickness and sturdiness of his armour saved him from being outright gutted. Aymeric grits his teeth upon the sight, trying to drown the sudden twinge of worry rising in his chest.

He will be fine. He just need some time to recover. The faster I can get him to our chirugeons the better.

Being as gentle as he can he gathers his friend into his arms, one arm around his shoulders and one under his knees. He takes great care in making sure Y'sato rests his head against his shoulder, not wanting to leave his head to hang around limply.

Once satisfied he and his unit makes haste for the Alliance barracks, with as much haste as he can allow, ever being conscious of the precious weight he now carries in his arms.

-.-.-.-.-

The trek back is largely uneventful of which Aymeric finds himself being immensely grateful. As for his friend still being unconscious in his arms there has been no change. Not a single movement or twitch. Nothing.

"Quick Commander. Over here." Aymeric doesn't need to be asked twice as he with the same hastened footfalls rushes over to his waiting chirugeons and an empty bed. Several other beds are occupied with wounded knights and soldiers alike but right now Aymeric has his attention on just one person, the one in his arms. With the same gentle nature he used to pick him up he lowers Y'sato down onto the firm mattress, being mindful of his injuries. He doesn't linger however, knowing time is of the essence giving his chirugeons room.

"Lord Aymeric!" Said lord now standing a small distance away, trying to occupy his mind with other things while trying not too look too intently at his chirugeons currently surrounding the bed he knows Y'sato to now rest on, finds himself being distracted by a voice. Turning around he is surprised to see the former flame general, Raubahn Aldynn running in is direction. The expression on his face tells him everything he needs to know.

"Pray forgive me for interrupting but I just saw you and your unit return and to my surprise with Y'sato. What happened out there!? Will he be alright?"

"Your worry is warranted and with good reason." Aymeric says as he meets the general's gaze, trying not to sound too worried himself. "He faltered in battle against the Ascian. One of my own, Estinien, managed to rush to his aid just in time. However Y'sato was already unconscious upon my arrival and has worryingly remained so since."

"Faltered...you say?"

"Yes, that was what I was told." Aymeric knows the former flame general to be close to the Warrior of Light as well and being far from the only one in the Alliance. Y'sato's roots of friendship and fellowship goes deep and now to see him in such a state... No wonder even a hardened gladiator like Raubahn struggles to keep his composure.

"Seven hells. I should have stopped him. Sent someone else!"

Raubahn's sudden outburst has Aymeric near jump out of his skin but he is quick in regaining his composure. What the general just told him however has his chest grow tight.

"...What do you mean? Please, enlighten me."

"The voice. He was tormented by the voice before he sent out. He dropped to his knees being in pain and I asked him if he still felt up for it but he persisted, pushing himself right back up onto his feet. He has ever been selfless and too stubborn for his own good. Hells I should have done something."

"The voice..." Just hearing the mention of those cursed words brings Aymeric pause, time itself seeming to slow to a standstill. The icy knot in his chest, the persistent clawing at his heart returns with full force as the realization finally hits him. Could the reason for Y'sato's faltering...his current unconscious state be because he was...called?

"...You don't think?"

"Aye...as much as I hate to think of it we can't discount the possibility. In quick succession every other Scion who heard the voice have all been taken from us one after the other. Y'sato was the last one remaining...The pieces fit."

"Halone preserve..." Aymeric doesn't know what to think, how to feel... A numbness has taken over him, a nameless fear. Y'sato has ever been dear to him and to House Fortemps and to now finding himself facing the possibility of him never waking up, being reduced to nothing but an empty husk... It's...it's too much to bear.

No. No I refuse to believe it! He shuts his eyes against the rising dread in his chest, the well of unbidden tears threatening to overflow. He is still alive, the Scions are still alive. As long as they yet draw breath there is still hope!

"My Lord. If I might have a word?" Aymeric opens his eyes upon hearing himself being addressed. Quickly blinking away the mist that has gathered in the corners of his eyes he looks up to regard the man now standing in front of him, one of his chief chirugeons. An older elezen man of a tall stature with greying hair, his expression grim. Still Aymeric stays undaunted. He will hear it. Hear it all.

"Yes, lets hear it. Spare no detail."

"As you wish, my lord. After careful observations and examinations your ally doesn't seem to suffer much in the physical sense. I assure you all of his wounds are being tended to, the most grave being a gash in his side and aside from some minor cuts and bruises he is in relative fine health. Still we can't fully rule out exhaustion." The man pauses, bringing a hand up to his chin. There is a certain look of dread in his eyes Aymeric can't help but notice. "Still it is quite worrisome he does not respond at all to any stimulus. Not even pain." Steeling himself Aymeric tries to prepare himself for what he knows comes next. This look in the chirugeons eyes. He has seen it before barely a week ago, when they had examined Alisaie. "I am sorry to say they are the same symptoms exhibited in the young elezen lady we treated just days past. They are still alive and breathing fine but it appears that which makes them, well, them has somehow vacated their bodies. Like their very souls have taken wing. Never before in all my years have I seen such a phenomenon. It baffles the mind."

"...I see." Aymeric doesn't know what else to say. On one hand he is grateful Y'sato isn't suffering from his injuries but at the same time to hear he doesn't respond to anything at all cements his fear of him having been called just like the others. A fact now as solid as the very stone making up the walls of Ishgard.

"We have done all we can for him for now I am afraid. Still I would like to say given time he may recover but I can't guarantee when or even how."

"Think not of it. That he is alive and well is more than I could ever ask for. Thank you for your services for which I am ever grateful."

"Always happy to serve, my Lord." With a courteous bow the elezen chirugeon goes on his way, no doubt his talents being needed elsewhere.

"Lord Aymeric. Are you alright?" Aymeric should have known the general would have noticed. Try as he might he can't really mask his worry, his growing fears. In a way he muses he can now fully understand how Y'sato must have felt that day Alisaie collapsed before his eyes, when all of the Scions had collapsed before him one by one...

"...I wont feign that I am fine because I surely am not. This...this is all simply too much to bear, and with so little warning." Without looking the general in the eye he slowly starts moving towards Y'sato's location. It is all he can do to keep his composure up. He needs to see his friend, to be at his side, even when he isn't truly there.

"I have to agree I feel the same." He hears Raubahn say behind him, following his steps. "Our stout allies, even The Warrior of Light...all taken from us one by one in rapid succession. It's simply too much, too sudden." He pauses, stopping by Aymeric's side there he now stands at the Warrior's bedside. "But that is why we must keep fighting. Is what they would have wanted, and for them to wake up to a free Erozea would be a great gift don't you think?"

Aymeric doesn't answer, or fully listen, his eyes on the occupant in the bed. Not surprising Y'sato hasn't moved an inch since he last had seen him which wasn't that long ago should he be absolutely honest with himself. He is just laying there on his back, eyes closed, being completely still, the gentle slow rise and fall of his chest the only indication he is still alive. His armor has been removed and bandages now cover the gash in his side alongside some other minor wounds, his bare chest covered with bruises both new and old. His friend...he looks so vulnerable. Not at all like the vaunted hero Aymeric knows him to be, and...he feels something break.

Feeling like the entire weight of the world now rests on his shoulders it takes everything he has not to sink down to his knees right then and there, his eyes never leaving Y'sato's face as he struggles to reign in his emotions.

"I have decided to take him to Ishgard." He swallows, hard. "He will be safe there. Far away from the Garleans, and the Ascian. I will personally see to it. On that you have my word." He turns to regard Raubahn upon his last words, a quiet yet unshakable determination clear in his eyes. On this he will not be swayed.

To his immense relief however Raubahn seems to agree. "Aye, it would be best for everyone I think. Ishgard is strongly fortified and knowing the Ascian is still out there it would be a lie for me to say your suggestion wouldn't bring me a great deal of peace of mind, to know Y'sato is kept safe. I will have an airship made ready at once." With that said the former flame general hurries off, already barking commands to any soldier within earshot. A faint smile graces Aymeric's lips but it soon falls when he turns back to look at Y'sato.

"Everything will be alright," He says as he kneels down by the bedside and reaches out a hand, gently placing it on Y'sato's shoulder, squeezing it slightly. He knows he can't hear him or feel his touch but still, Aymeric wants him to know he is there, having his back. "You are among friends. You are not alone."

Like everything else that has transpired on this day, Aymeric again finds himself at a loss. Despite the comforting touch on his shoulder, or the reassurance in Aymeric's words, Y'sato just lays there, ever silent, not responding, eyes closed, his mouth slightly open.

It becomes too much. Like a dam breaking the first tears pool in the commander's eyes and try as he might he can't stop them. Not this time. Stifling a sob he buries his face into a hand, his other still squeezing his friend's shoulder although now much more firmly. Unbidden tears streaks down his cheeks but Aymeric pays them no heed. Never before has he been feeling this powerless. To see his friend as he is and yet being unable to do anything to help him, it is a pain beyond words. He cant help but mourn. Not because his friend has died but simply because he has no idea if he will ever wake again and if so, when.

No. Stop thinking like that! He is not lost to us. Not yet.

Taking a deep breath he slowly raises his head, stifling another sob in the progress as he wipes his tears away from his eyes. He forces a smile, fighting to regain his composure. His smile is a weak and trembling thing but he chances again to look at his friend's face. Another unbidden tear streaks down his cheek but he stays firm, gently reaching out to run his fingers through Y'sato's hair. For the love of his friend, for any comfort it might bring. Yes he is certain. He will see him again. The thought alone gives him strength.

As long as there is life there is hope.