My days in that bed could have been the subject of a study on aetherochemical time dilation, for they went by with an almost positively abnormal slowness. Y'shtola was given leave to care for me as she saw fit, which left me bereft of any kind of physical exertion and activity. She even went so far as to bar me from visiting Ayumi, citing her "excessive attachment" as enough of a reason to keep me away from the stables. She was likely worried the bird would tackle me as soon as I stepped foot inside the stable. So, instead of being a soldier I passed away what seemed like a moon's time assuming the role of a sickly denizen of Lominsa.
While I don't give her enough credit, the little bundle of arcane skill that she is, Y'shtola has a tendency to overreact when she finds me in her care. Even the slightest cough or grunt of discomfort could be enough to set her into one of her nervous episodes. Her capacity for concern was truly astonishing. She would never answer me when I asked, but by now I was certain that my constant clashes with death did naught to appease her. I knew damn well that I was reckless, and I also knew damn well that she was a worrywort. The two of those combined would be doubtlessly troubling, but we all put up with certain things. This just happened to be one of them.
In the time my partner left me alone to heal in peace, I found great deals of entertainment in the passing activity that went past my residence. The Maelstrom's infirmary regularly overflowed with the wounded, leaving its surplus to enjoy the luxuries of a rented room in the Drowning Wench. Baderon was an ex-Maelstrom lad himself, and often offered up his residences to us when others would turn us away. This left me with a view of the south side of the Octant, just opposite of Hawker's Alley. One could never be bored when viewing the various tribulations and follies of the poor souls that frequented the markets. Even something as simple as a misspelled word on a sign would be enough to cause trouble. One of the little quirks of the city, it could be said.
In this particular moment, I had the pleasure of occupying an aerial view of a Yellowjacket shakedown of some poor bloke. She couldn't have been more than twenty, by the looks of her, and saying she way fresh off of the boat couldn't have been more an understatement. She wore a dress of seemingly patchwork foreign materials, and simple sandals likely suited to simple village life. On her waist laid a small handheld blade, tied on with thin string to the beaten scabbard housing it. She was Au Ra, a recently arrived people of serpent esque people nature. Her horn curved along where her ears would have laid, pointing forward with her gaze. Like her horns, her hair was a darksteel grey, which flowed into highlights of platinum white as it went farther from her head. A wide bang laid across her right eye, the rest pulled back into a loose single braid that ended somewhere behind her. A thin forked tail flourished weakly behind her as she moved, visibly distressed by the man that suddenly appeared before her.
Although I was too far to hear the encounter, I could be certain that he was trying to exhort some kind of official-sounding levy out of her. From her stance, she seemed to be believing him, albeit with some reluctance. Then, as suddenly as they has been forced together, she ran off. Soon she was out of sight underneath me, likely headed to the tavern for a drink. If she had just arrived, that would be the most logical place to begin a tour of the city, I would've thought.
The cool ocean breeze flowed past my face, providing sweet relief from the sun that beat down on my windowsill as I sat in it, one leg dangling beside me. These lazy times felt unnecessary, but I was loath to disobey a conjurer if they told me I still needed time to recover. After all, any poison that was strong enough to put me into a coma for that long would be bound to stick around for a time.
A deep sigh escaped my admittedly sore chest, an admission of the necessity for my internment.
"Ye don't strike me as the bedrest type, Seymour" a voice said to my right.
Nearly falling out of the window, I jumped to a half-assed attention in the direction of the voice. As I looked forward, I saw none other than R'ashaht Rhiki staring at me expectantly.
"Commander!" I offered, straightening myself in the presence of the officer.
"At ease," she giggled, waving off my attempt at formality. "I'm not here to announce yer court martial or something. As a matter of fact, I got some good news."
Sitting back down on my cot, nursing my still aching sides, I looked to her. Rhiki had never been one to disappoint in all of the time that I had known her, so this looked to be good.
"Go ahead then, tell me."
"Before I do, I've half a mind to ask somethin' of me own."
I tilted my head quizzically, motioning her to continue. She moved closer to the bed, her officer's coat flowing lightly behind her as she walked, her face coming into focus. Her eyes were bloodshot and weary, her hat even askew. Patches of dirt and dried wine marked her cheeks, smearing the blush that she often laid down in the mornings. I had never seen her in such a disheveled state before.
In lieu of saying anything she dropped herself onto the bed beside me, heavily landing in the sheets. She remained still for a moment before her body drowned out my sight, pulled close into a bear hug.
"Why in the bloody hells do you have to go and get yourself into trouble like that?!" she yelled, her voice muffled by my thin shirt.
"Nine times… nine gods damned times I've had to sit by and wait... Wait for news on you, on if ye were alive or not. I can't do it anymore, Seymour. I can't…."
Rhiki seemed to funnel strength into her grasp, tightening it around me as her voice diminished. I had known her for almost my entire life, grown with her and then some, but never before had she shown such emotion in my presence. Every death, every missed chance, every sacrifice she took with the same melancholic stoicism as always, but now... She had been present for every one of my escapades that had nearly ended my life, as well, and never prior to now had my penchant for death been a problem. It was one of the reasons she was a Second Commander of the Maelstrom, and not I, after all. There was no precedent for this, and it worried me.
"Rhiki… what in Bahamut's name's gotten into you, this isn't like you…"
"I don't care! I don't bloody care what ye think, I want you to listen to me, just for once in your life! Stop while yer ahead, end this m-madness before push comes to shove…. B-before…." she sobbed through her attempt at expressing herself, most of the words hardly comprehensible through her onslaught of worry.
"Hush now, I'm not goin' anywhere, lass-"
"How many times have ye told me that?! How many times have you gone and dome something to nearly get yerself killed, only to come back on a stretcher, hangin' onto life by a thread thinner than any silk? When does it end, Hanji? I can't do this anymore..."
She pulled her face out of my shoulder, grief-filled eyes boring into my own with a passion totally unbecoming of their owner.
"Seymour, I want you to leave the Maelstrom." she firmly stated, albeit in a softer tone than was the norm.
"Eh? What's this now? Do you really think that I would do that?"
"Why not! You've been in service for almost five years now, and where has that gotten you? What have you been given for that time? Nine bouts of death and nothing more than one promotion! You've lived nine lives for this nation and they've done naught to earn it…"
She was grasping at straws now, her reasoning failing to sway me. She knew damn well why I was where I was, and she of all people should not be denying me my chance to fulfill my duty. There was another reason to this, I just had to poke the viper a bit.
"They gave me, no, gave us a chance at life, Rhiki. They taught us how to fight, how to get the revenge we deserved, they taught us how to live. We came to them as two husks, and here we are now. Hells, you're a bloody Commander, Rhiki. How can you say all that? I haven't been promoted in three years because I've no interest in leading. I belong on the front lines, I am and always will be a grunt. I recognize that."
She looked poised to say more, but the language seemed to desert her as she opened her mouth. Defeated, she looked to the floor, downtrodden and still spewing tears. She sat beside me, a mere arm's distance away, and yet I felt like she was farther away than I could comprehend.
"Seymour, I… I've never had a family. You know that. I've been alone for what seems like me entire life. When we was growing up, ye were all I had. Ye still are. I've run out of people to keep close… please, don't leave me alone…."
I blinked a few times, the sheer emotion in her voice hitting me like a brick wall. The way she worded this, it sounded…. It sounded like it was meant to be interpreted by a bit of context. Context that was unique to us, that should have stayed buried. But no, here she sat, calling upon the days she knows damn well could never be replicated, then or now. The days where we could sit on the docks, hand in hand, hearts entwined, not giving a damn what the world thought as it passed us by… a time that belonged in both of our pasts, not our presents.
"Rhiki."
"No! It needs to be said! All those years ago, all this time… nothing's changed, Seymour. I still… I still love you."
I paused, catching her glance with a force that spoke volumes. I wanted my gaze to petrify her, to lock her in place. If she ran now, she would never forgive herself. I wouldn't forgive her. Whatever she needed to say, it had to be said now. Further delays of this would only cause tragedy, and I wasn't wont to seek that out on my own accord.
"... but I know damn well that I can't ever get ye back. After what happened, all of the time apart, I'd be a godsdamned fool to think that we could salvage anything. And now…" she drifted off, her hand coming up to touch the small metal cuff hanging down from my bangs. She felt the runes inscribed upon it, knowing full well what they meant, and what I had gone through to attain this particular one. She had likely seen its counterpart walking the halls of the Aftcastle this very morning.
"... now it's all for nothin'. No matter what I feel, you'll always belong to another. Nonetheless, I can't help what me heart tells me."
With a heavy sigh, she withdrew her appendage. The more this encounter drew on, the more confused I became. I knew what she intended to say, but not why. For a usually direct and upfront woman, Rhiki was choosing a roundabout and difficult manner of speech. It didn't suit her very well. She almost look ready to burst at the seams with her emotions, only her military-trained willpower holding them back.
She spoke not again, letting the silence be filled with the cool sounds of the sea, and the heavy creak of the ceiling fan above us, churning away on its Alchemical fuel to keep the air moving in the room. The woman was not one to admit defeat, not now or ever. For her to come to me and speak as she had… that must have taken considerable preparation.
"Rhiki… what is the twelve has gotten into you?"
"Well, don't go blaming me for all this! You're the one who decided to go out and get yerself killed again! I was afraid, Seymour… I was afraid that I wouldn't get another chance to see you come back to life, to say all of this to you. I've been blessed enough to see ye survive tragedy as much as ye have, and I've been ponderin' me words for some time, but I never seemed to have a chance. Probably good, considerin' what's been goin' on around the lands. World's gone right mad, if ye ask me."
"I'd never imagine that you'd let fear get control of you, out of all the people I know."
"Shut it. I've got you to blame. You're all I have left, you big lug." she chided, bringing me into her embrace again. However, while the last one seemed gripped with desperation and worry, this one seemed more gentle and carefree. Like a burden was removed from her still-shaking shoulders.
"Don't worry, love, I'm not goin' anywhere. So long as I got Y'shtola at me back, it'll be right as rain."
"Heh" she snorted, "damn well better be, considerin' she married yer sorry arse. Protect'n her investment, more like."
I responded with a healthy laugh, provoking my chest into another bout of nervous seizing at my expense. Rhiki looked worried for my condition, but not in the same way she had been before. I seemed to have gotten my old companion back.
"I'm only gonna say this once; Ye've got no more lives left. After this, yer as mortal as the rest of us. I'm not done with ye, so don't die."
"I… yeah, I understand."
I moved to put an arm on her shoulder, but the searing in my abdomen returned in force, nearly paralyzing me in agony.
"Hells, sure you're gonna be alright? That was nasty shite."
"Aye, I will. I've got a round the clock nurse at my side, what could possibly go wrong?"
"Knowing you?" she asked, rising from the bed with a bit of pep in her step, "Everything."
She stood opposite of me, looking at me with the keen eye of a scout. "I'm sorry for bargin' in here while yer healin' Seymour. I just… have enough regrets, and I don't want you to be one of 'em, you know? I hope you can overlook my little episode."
"... Ye said that you've never had family. Wrong. No matter what's happened between us, we've always been at each other's backs. We're family, Rhiki, ain't nothin' gonna change that. I swear by the Navigator on that one."
"Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. Now then! On to the business at hand." she exclaimed, snapping to attention before me and a serious manner. The switch in moods was quite jarring, but I went with as best a soldier could.
"The Admiral herself looked at the reports from yer mission, Seymour. The Sergeant is dead, and so is the rest of yer squad. You're a survivor, not a deserter. You acted under order to retreat, and followed it to a T. Only one of fifty to make it back, no less… regardless, you're not to blame."
"Who is then?" I ask, earning a small grimace from Rhiki.
"Well, that's the tricky part of all this… we aren't really sure. If Y'shtola was of the Maelstrom, she'd likely be facing demotion and a court martial, among other things, but seeing as how she isn't formally inducted, and only acts in an advisory position on paper, we can't do anything to touch her. That would have left the commanding officer of the mission, but seeing as how he died alongside the rest, we can't do that either."
"Playing it up as a foul change of the winds, then?"
"Aye, as best we can to the public. They'll want answers as to why 50 men died for no good reason, but we'll have time to fabricate something believable. In the meantime, the Admiral is having words with the Archon. She'll likely not be too pleased to have her men's lives gone with the wind. Especially Railog…."
She spoke of the High Commander, Railog Bro'Welsin, which Y'shtola had been paired with to oversee the mission. The fact that he was dead was likely to be a point of bitter contention in this debacle, considering he had been in the maelstrom nigh on thirty summers, and was of the Maelstrom's most renowned fighters. Rumors held that he manned the liaison mission to the Company of Heroes during their brief time in Limsa. He was a good man, and he deserved better than what fate handed him, that much was certain.
"Not many could replace him. I can only hope they picked a bloody good replacement."
"Well… Yer lookin' at her."
"Eh?" I stupidly exclaimed, my mind still a bit foggy from the busy conversation. Rhiki bore her gaze into me with a pride that was characteristic of her, bereft of doubt and burning with ambition.
"I mean what I said. I'm the new High Commander of the Maelstrom. Skipped a few ranks to get it, mind ye, but that didn't seem to stop the Admiral when she called me in a few hours ago. Gave me a new squadron to command and everything."
"High Commander… Gods, Rhiki, you're privy to command by none but Limsa's most decorated."
"Aye, only the Grand Marshal and the Admiral, in essence. There stands a few vacancies in the leadership that the Admiral is reluctant to fill, seein' as how it's just been her and ol' Eynzahr for as long as the Maelstrom's been a cohesive whole. Speaking of which…" she mused, looking in my direction once again with an air of mystery.
"What is it now, woman? Haven't ye put me through enough today?"
"One last thing, I promise. Remember how ye said ye didn't like the thought of bein' a leader?"
"Yes, seeing as how it was just moments ago. Why?..."
"Well, better get over that little hangup, because the Admiral just named ye my second in command."
"What!? What in the twelve's name is she thinkin'? Second in command of what?" I nearly screamed, feeling my body tense in light of the less than cheerful news.
She giggled slightly, visibly enjoying getting under my skin like this. "Well now, ain't this a surprise little Hanji? Now ye get to spend all day with little ol' me!"
She walked to the door, hands tightly wound behind he back in an official manner, turning to face me once again.
"Private Hanji, welcome to the Foreign Levy."
Well then... been a while, eh? Writer's block hit hard when writing my other series, decided to continue on this nearly forgotten piece. Enjoy :)