A/N: Hello everyone, I have returned with another update to this non-crossover story. As you all may have noticed, Final Fantasy 16 was released a few weeks ago and I had been playing it. The game is so good and there's no denying how much they put into making it. Haven't stopped playing it but also taking my time with it since it is a Final Fantasy game and did not want to leave out anything during my first walkthrough of it. That being said it gave me some ideas for a story but that will be for later. Right now let us resume the Prologue arc!

'Thought'

The N Tribe had been flourishing as the usual norm had gone by. All of the Miqo'te doing their routines, leisure, or the occasional case of a Tia challenging a Nunh. On the shores by it however was the sound of breathing and the frequent clash of metal. A Miqo'te was in the midst of sparring against N'vurih Nunh as the dagger glided across the sword the older one carried. With a grunt, the Nunh swiped his blade to aim for his younger opponent's midsection but the young one was nimble enough to avoid it.

Just as the young Tia was about to deliver the winning blow, N'vurih quickly held his weapon diagonally, not only parrying the attack but knocked the younger Miqo'te off his feet. With the Miqo'te down, the man pointed the sword at the young fighter.

It was complete silence until the older Miqo'te chuckled. "Almost had me there, N'aithin."

The Miqo'te who was fighting N'vurih was N'aithin, only now the reincarnate was 15 years old albeit recently. He was still growing up but the noticeable changes about him were the curve-shaped markings reaching from the corner of his eyes by his nose and slightly curving outwards below his eyes. His jet black hair had remained the same but his tail grew to near/moderate length.

"I thought I had it," grumbled N'aithin.

His blood father laughed slightly before helping him onto his feet and patted his shoulder, "You nearly did." He then gestured to the marks across the woven leather armor. There laid good markings of a blade scraping across its surface. "But you left good marks on the leather in the midst of it. That is more than enough to display that you have learned much."

"It's thanks to you, father." While he had been training, his father did so as well and look where it ended up? His father became a Nunh once again nearly five years ago. This time, the Tias who challenged him have met defeat. He had seen how capable his father was in each fight and boy was he amazed upon witnessing his father's newfound might.

…Which led to ending up having half dozen more paternal sisters. Don't get him started on how he was having to deal with six more sisters. He was still the only Tia amongst those who shared his father's blood damn it! At least his father wasn't the only Nunh given the size of the village as he recalled there are occasionally more than one Nuhn depending on the size of the village tribe.

Aside from that, the reincarnate had been doing more stuff now that he is nearing the day he turns 16, the adult age in this world. It felt odd that the very age he mentioned is 'legally' considered an adult in this world.

Then again, this was a medieval-like world so he wasn't questioning or complaining about it… somewhat anyway.

The young Miqo'te briefly brushed the sand off his clothes and placed the daggers back in the holsters. Whenever his father had time, they would spar together, allowing the reincarnate to improve his fighting ways. He would alternate between daggers, sword, and hands. Mostly the daggers.

A loud growl escaped his abdomen, disrupting his train of thought. Though it had also made the young man's ears lower in embarrassment while his father laughed.

"Come, let's return to the village so we can have our morning meal." N'vurih suggested.

"Yes father."

The young Miqo'te followed closely behind his father as they made their way up the familiar pathway. The island had remained largely unchanged, but the village on the opposite side had undergone impressive development and was now a bustling port town, unlike the N Tribe's humble village. However, the Miqo'te still engaged in trade with the locals, working hard to support their community.

As they entered the tribe's home, the reincarnate took in the familiar sights and sounds. Despite only being 15 years old, he had already noticed the subtle growth of the village. It seemed slightly larger and, dare he say, more vibrant than it had been in his earliest memories.

Though lively wouldn't be right as some were occasionally exiting the tavern. There were two taverns in existence on the isle. One here in the N Tribe exclusively for the Miqo'te of the village and the other on the port of the island itself.

Sometimes several would go to the tavern with the better drinks by the port whereas everything they eat is from hunting, trading, and fishing. Venturing into the dining hall of the village, N'aithin saw its lively atmosphere that was nostalgic to him. People chatting, devouring their meals, and children making a racket of their own. Each sound familiar and hinted toward how crowded the place was every day. True to every expectation, all of the tables were packed. Most of those eating were females, which was of no surprise whatsoever.

The reincarnate tailed after his father before joining the small number of Tias much like himself. Though the Tias who are younglings were with the mothers for the time being. He, on the other hand, as a Tia and son of the Nunh, would occasionally follow his father since he is no longer a child and his official adulthood begins soon.

Other times he would assist the young kits earning amusement from the other Miqo'te. They found it amusing as regardless of his blood, he would treat them kindly. Back in his previous life, he was teased about being a family figure. Whether it was a comment, a compliment, or just to ease him, it didn't matter. He wanted to do what he could to help.

"Ah, N'vurih good to see you have joined us." A fellow Tia noticed and noticed the reincarnate with him. "Training him I see?"

"That I am."

N'aithin could feel the glance directed at him but paid no attention. He was more fixated on the tome now that he was situated with the fellow Tias and his father who was the Nunh.

With the meals set onto the table, N'aithin and his father began to join in eating. The breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, an apple, diced popotoes (which was this world's version of potatoes), and cooked meat.

It was a healthy start every morning. Quite frankly, the reincarnate honestly liked it that way. The food he ate since the day he (physically) came of age to eat meals was always fresh from the gardens and the meat that came from the livestock or from hunting was quite delicious.

"Have you heard the rumors?" Another Tia, N'vaki inquired to the Nunh.

The air around them grew tense as N'vurih's frown deepened and spoke, "Aye, the Garleans have been encroaching on Eorzea once again."

N'aithin's memory was jogged at the mention of the Garlean Empire's plans to conquer Eorzea. They had already successfully invaded Ala Mihgo in the past and were now setting their sights on the rest of the continent. It was no wonder that the people on the island were feeling uneasy with the looming threat of invasion.

Sadly, he was feeling the same way. The reincarnate wasn't blind to the reality of the growing problem involving the Garlean Empire's campaign of conquest for Eorzea.

It was one of the reasons why the locale of the island was on edge and the presence of the Barracuda Knights provided protection.

N'aithin glanced at the Miqo'te who dined on their breakfast. His brows knit softly as his gaze lingered on the gathering. Sometimes he wonders if things will be okay for everyone here.

If there was one thing that always concerned him… it was word about the Garlean Invasion that started going around. Those very rumors that lead to a certain incident.

~*~FFXIV~*~

With the week that passed, the raven-haired Miqo'te had been occupying himself with daily work. He may be 15 physically but he didn't freeload over the years after he was allowed to assist the tribe. While most children or teens (around) his age go about to have fun, he was more focused on helping his fellow kin. In the eyes of everyone here, he was more mature for his age.

Currently, he was busy keeping his sisters occupied. The keeping them occupied wouldn't be right. As he was the only Tia with his father's blood, it meant dealing with his ten sisters.

While N'aithin was fifteen years old, his sisters' ages varied. A few were toddlers, one being four years old. However it meant his two younger sisters were no longer the youngest as the two were 13-14 years old while his eldest sisters who were twins were 17. Thus he was watching over his younger sisters.

He was regaling them in a tale to pass the time; a tale he knew from his past life. At first it was just his younger sisters but the small number of children grew into a small gathering. The adults didn't seem to mind the gathering while his teen sisters had also listened in.

He honestly never thought it would catch an audience. Adding that he merely told what he read from a book he found when he was younger. It did pain him to lie about where he got such a book but he had to keep his mind clear.

The tale he was telling them was the story of a boy who was an orphan under the watch of a noble and met a mage who taught him the knowledge of the world. Only to eventually pull a sword that is Excalibur from a stone, signifying he was the child of a late king.

The children before him were either in awe or to a few, confusion regarding a few things but listened to N'aithin's tale nonetheless.

"Upon the boy returning to prove to his fosters that he pulled the sword of the stone, he placed it back into the rock it came from." The reincarnate stated. "A few tried to see if Arthur was lying but they couldn't pull the blade from its rocky prison. Thus young Arthur repeated the same motion and when the sword was pulled, it was proven to everyone he was the rightful heir to be king, surprising the boy himself."

"Woooww." The children all said in unison.

A young Miqo'te furrowed her brow in a mix of confusion and intrigue. "Wait...what comes next?" she asked, prompting a chorus of agreement from her fellow feline relatives and friends. "What does young Arthur do after he's crowned king?" The group of young Miqo'te couldn't help but unleash a flurry of questions as their curiosity grew.

N'aithin began to speak, but as he looked up, he noticed the adults in the vicinity, some of whom were chuckling at his caught gaze. He gave a bashful smile to his Miqo'te companions. "I'm afraid we'll have to put a pause on our questions for now," he said, gesturing towards the nearby grown-ups.

"Aww…" the children felt glum.

"Now, now, let N'aithin have some respite from giving you children leisure." An older Miqo'te mused. The children mumbled but began to disperse to their respective mothers. "You have our thanks, N'aithin."

"You're welcome. It's the least I can do." With most of the older female Miqo'te occupied with their jobs and/or hunting, someone had to keep an eye on the kids while they were busy. While there were more than one Nunh here, the female populace of the tribe outnumbered the males. Once they reach mature age, it was the day they learn to hunt, fish, etc.

With the gathering dispersed, N'aithin stretched whereas his older twin sisters approached.

"That was a very interesting tale, N'aithin." N'delika commented. "I never knew such a tale was written."

The reincarnate gave a timid smile. "Thanks, I'm glad you enjoyed it. I've been reading a lot lately and it's given me some new ideas."

N'delika nodded. "It definitely showed. You had the kids completely captivated."

N'delika's twin sister, N'tanmo, chimed in. "Speaking of reading, have you seen the latest volume of 'Adventures in Eorzea?' It just came out yesterday."

N'aithin's eyes lit up. "No, I haven't! Is it any good?"

His eldest sister nodded eagerly. "It's amazing. I stayed up all night reading it. I think you'd really like it."

The reincarnate grinned. "Well, in that case, we'll have to go get a copy. Maybe we can read it together."

As they made their way towards the village shores, N'delika asked, "So the story you told about young Arthur, is there more to it after he became king?"

After a moment's hesitation, the reincarnate chose to withhold the tale, teasing the others with a mischievous smile. "There is indeed more to the tale, but perhaps it's best to save it for another time. We wouldn't want to spoil the anticipation for those eager to hear it, now would we?" N'delika playfully pouted, joined by her twin sister, N'aithin chuckling at their feigned disappointment.

Gazing skyward, N'aithin's brows furrowed as his gaze fixated on a spectacle unfolding above. His eyes locked onto the crimson orb suspended in the heavens, known as Dalamud. It appeared lower than it had been before, triggering a deep-seated unease within him.

As he continued to stare, his hands grew rigid, and his ears twitched in tandem. He knew all too well what lay concealed within that Allagan-designed orb, and honestly, it terrified him to his very core. Fear coursed through his veins, for within Dalamud, dreaded by every denizen of Eorzea, slumbered the most formidable Eikon of all—Bahamut.

The game had introduced him to the concept, but now, witnessing it with his own eyes, the unease intensified into a gripping fear that nestled deep within his stomach. He couldn't escape the impending realization that the day of reckoning drew nearer, and the thought sent shivers down his spine, unsettling his very soul.

"N'aithin?" His two sisters, puzzled by his intense gaze, called out to him. Lowering his head to meet their curious gazes, he took a moment to collect himself, mentally counting to ten to regain composure. Finally, he nodded, masking his inner turmoil with a serene smile. "I'm fine, sisters. Just pondering what other tales I might share with the others, apart from the Tale of Arthur." The weight of the secret he bore, concealing his true nature from his own half-siblings, pressed heavily upon him. Unlike everyone around him, he knew he was different, in both mind and soul as he was from Earth.

In an attempt to shift the focus, N'aithin interlocked his hands, a gesture of readiness to embark on another topic. "That said, I should-" However, his voice trailed off as his attention, along with that of his two sisters, was drawn to a gathering near the village entrance. Murmurs rippled through the air, tinged with a palpable sense of unease.

Curiosity piqued, N'aithin felt compelled to approach and investigate. As he neared the gathering, he couldn't help but notice the unsettled expressions etched on the faces of his fellow Miqo'te. A foreboding feeling gripped his heart, signaling that something was amiss.

Meanwhile, his father detached himself from the gathering, a solemn demeanor accompanying the parchment he held tightly in his hand. The sight alone added weight to the already mounting concern.

"Father?" The dark look in his father's eyes meant something wasn't good. His gold eyes peered over his father's side to the parchment in his hand before N'aithin's brows knit in shock.

'Shit.' He saw the newspaper displaying the main article regarding most recent events. One that he dreaded to see.

The Garlean Empire has resumed their campaign of conquest for the rest of Eorzea.

That was not a good sign.

~*~FFXIV~*~

It has been five days now and so far from what he overheard, war has been occuring and already word about it has reached across most cities, villages, and towns, in regards to the oncoming Garlean invasion. He was sure there was the start of concern and alert across every town and main city across Eorzea in regards to the Garlean approach.

Last he heard the Garleans were reaching Cartenau in a matter of minutes. If he remembered correctly, Cartenau was located at the border of Thanalan and Mor Dhona.

It was also ground zero for the most horrible incident known to Eorzea - the Seventh Umbral Calamity. The cause? The deadliest Primal known to the nations - Bahamut.

N'aithin clenched his fists in frustration as he thought about the dire situation. He knew that the Garlean Empire was a formidable foe, with magitek technology and military prowess. And yet, he couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu. The memories of his past life on Earth flooded back to him, reminding him of the countless wars and conflicts that had plagued that world. He understood this world was no game nor being fictional, this was a very serious matter.

As for him on the other hand? He was with his father as they were in the La Noscean mainland.

N'aithin still felt the brief, bubbling unease but kept himself calm.

He had to focus on today, not tomorrow or the day before. He was nearing his adulthood thus learning the way of the hunt as a soon to be adult Miqo'te. But it wasn't the rites, he was merely joining his father in a menial job. Earlier he joined his father in escort duty. While he was 15 years old, he had to learn given his next year will mark his start of being considered an adult.

His gaze drifted back to the sky again, seeing the sun nearly on its start to set. That's one view that he admires every day.

"Is everything alright, N'aithin?" The said teen lowered his gaze to notice his father's curious gaze. "You have been in trances like that now and then."

"Yeah, just…"

N'vurih paused his steps, noticing the young man hesitant to speak. "You can tell me."

The young Miqo'te bit his lip before saying, "I'm just worried… about the outcome of the war that is happening." He looked at his blood father. "Is it wrong to be this concerned?"

His father walked over to close the gap and planted his hand on his shoulder. Then his father shook his head. "You have every right to be worried about the outcome, N'aithin." He consoled the young Miqo'te. "War is a frightening event but you must remember, there are people fighting to protect the ones they care about, fighting for a cause."

For a brief moment, N'aithin felt his eyes fool him. The words were strikingly similar to the very words his dad said to him in his previous life.

'Dad…?'

A sudden ominous feeling crawled down their spine. Their ears twitching and their minds feeling their instincts running high upon the foreboding feeling.

As the twilight descended upon the horizon, the celestial canvas transformed into an eerie spectacle of maroon red hues. The clouds in the sky gathered and thundered. The ethereal atmosphere seemed to writhe and coil in response to the malevolence surging through the air. Every fiber of N'aithin's being reverberated with a primal warning, a visceral sensation crawling down his spine. The overwhelming waves of fear and foreboding engulfed him, intensifying with each passing moment since the unearthly yet savage roar shattered the heavens, its echoes resonating across the vast expanse of Eorzea.

Shakingly, N'aithin turned his head to the direction of its origin. Despite being in La Noscea's valley, he and his father could see the entity in the sky far above.

Its body is as blue as the dark oceans with wings as wide as the eye can see. Its very presence served as an imminent threat. That being alone was one N'aithin dreadfully knew.

The most powerful Primal known to Eorzea, Bahamut.

Seeing the Eikon made N'aithin's skin run pale. It was happening - The Seventh Umbral Calamity.

"We must go back to the isle, now." Those were the words his father said. Without a single word of protest to give, he felt his father pull his arm in which the reincarnate ran with his blood father.

N'aithin's mind raced as he ran. He can faintly hear the resounding sound of the impacts and explosions. No doubt the work of the power the Eikon was unleashing from Cartnenau. It had unleashed its almighty Teraflare.

"Keep running, N'aithin!" His father yelled.

Struggling to keep pace with his father, N'aithin's heart pounded in his chest, his legs burning with exertion.

As the ground trembled beneath them, N'aithin's footing faltered, causing him to tumble onto the dusty terrain. A blinding flash had struck the earth just moments before, but it was thankfully far from their current location. N'vurih swiftly reached out, helping N'aithin regain his balance, and they promptly resumed their hasty retreat. The urgency of their situation propelled them forward, leaving behind the unsettling aftermath of the tremor.

However it was the result from it that made the run more dangerous. The blaze from the flare that had impacted the earth sent a wave of flames and smoke.

The raging blaze inched closer, casting a sinister glow on everything around. N'aithin's fear became palpable as his father tightly grasped his shoulders, embracing him with a mix of urgency and tenderness. "Stay strong, no matter what happens, N'aithin," his father whispered, voice strained with emotion.

Before N'aithin could utter another word, N'vurih, his father, propelled him forcefully into the nearby river with the momentum from his father's shove. The young Miqo'te descended rapidly, causing a resounding splash as he hit the water's surface. Underneath, his surroundings blurred, but he could still perceive the eruption of flames, debris, and smoke above. His eyes widened with sheer horror.

In the midst of the watery abyss, N'aithin's senses were overwhelmed by a dazzling spectacle. A brilliant burst of flames that casted as light engulfed his vision, a mesmerizing display of colors distorted by the aquatic medium. However, the violent surge of aether disrupted the tranquility, causing the water to churn around him, leaving him thrashing his arms in a futile attempt to swim towards the surface. Bubbles escaped his mouth as he desperately cried out, his voice muffled by the water.

Then, he witnessed a sight that would forever be etched in his memory—the luminous light, dancing and flickering, while the watery depths added a glimmering touch to its flashy yet ethereal nature. Alas, the forceful current thwarted his every effort to ascend. His feeble attempts to swim proved fruitless, as the unrelenting rush of water crashed against him, plunging him into a disorienting darkness that enveloped his fading vision.

~*~FFXIV~*~

As N'aithin regained consciousness, a faint voice reached his ears. It was inaudible to his hearing, his weary gaze slowly adjusting, but a wave of nausea immediately overwhelmed him. His senses were assaulted by the discomfort caused by pressure pressed against his torso and foreign fluids coursing through his body. Desperately, he struggled to sit up, his frantic movements causing him to expel the water forcefully once he turned over.

"Take a breath, young one," a gentle yet firm feminine voice soothed, while a reassuring hand patted his back. Supporting him, the unknown person provided a comforting presence as N'aithin emptied his lungs and stomach, purging the water that had invaded them. "You're doing well. Just take it easy."

After coughing out all the fluids, the reincarnate painfully moved his head and greeted with a familiar face. Despite the years that passed, the green hair with a fringe that obscured the violet eyes, and the face was something he never forgot. Back then the individual looked to have been no more than a recruit (presumably) but looked much older.

"You're… that Barracuda Knight who was pulled to the tribe…" He recognized her. "The one I found on the shore."

"It's been some time since someone remembered that." The greenette gave a strain smile. "I never forget those golden eyes of yours."

"Where am I at…?"

"I spotted you from the edge of the river, so I–"

The reincarnate trembled as he desperately clutched the Maelstrom soldier's coat. "W-Was there anyone else?! A-A Miqo'te with black hair like mine, older... my father!"

The Maelstrom soldier's brows softened, empathy etched on their face. "You were the only one I found by the river," she replied gently, their words hanging heavy in the air.

N'aithin's heart pounded wildly within his chest, his mind thrown into a state of frantic panic. He couldn't bear to entertain the possibility that his worst fears had come true. Ignoring the calls of the green-haired companion behind him, he sprang to his feet and raced back to the spot where he had last seen his father.

"Wait!" the greenette called out, but N'aithin's desperation drowned out her voice. He propelled himself forward with every ounce of strength he could muster, his legs straining under the exertion. The remnants of life-giving aether still shimmered across the terrain, the wind whispering softly against his face. Unlike the tumultuous upheaval during the calamity, the aether now danced with a more serene rhythm, revitalizing the land and restoring its natural balance.

His footsteps gradually slowed until he came to a breathless halt, surveying the expanse of the now ruined valley within La Noscea. N'aithin's gaze wandered aimlessly, his eyes desperately searching for any sign of his blood father.

"FATHER!!!" N'aithin's voice reverberated across the valley, echoing with an anguished plea. Silence greeted him in return, accompanied only by the faint rustling of the wind and the gentle rain of aether specks descending upon the land. There was no answer, no trace of his father's presence. Dread clutched at his soul, squeezing tighter with every passing moment. Once more, he called out, his voice laced with desperation and sorrow, "Fathheeerrrr!!!!" Yet, the void of emptiness remained, devoid of any response. It was as if his words vanished into the ether, swallowed by the vastness of the land. Nothing.

His eyes quivered uncontrollably, and he crumpled to his knees, unable to come to terms with the devastating truth that unfolded before him. "No... it can't be true," he whispered in disbelief, his hands clutching his head as his thoughts spun into a chaotic whirlwind.

This couldn't be happening. It simply couldn't. Not again. His heart clenched, refusing to accept the grim reality that his father might be gone. Desperation welled up within him, and he pleaded silently, his inner voice filled with anguish. 'Please... don't let it happen again!'

With trembling breaths, N'aithin sucked in as much air as he could muster, his hands cupped together in a desperate plea. "FAATHHEEERRRR!" his anguished cry tore through the air, echoing across the desolate landscape.

But there was no response, no reassuring voice to break the silence. The void swallowed his plea, leaving him with only the weight of his grief.

"Lad, I'm sorry," the maelstrom soldier offered, her voice laced with empathy, attempting to provide some semblance of solace amidst the overwhelming sorrow that erupted within N'aithin.

The weight of despair settled over him like a suffocating cloak, blurring the boundaries between him and the harsh reality he now faced.

His father… was gone.

~*~FFXIV~*~

The reincarnate felt a turmoil of emotions as he was safely escorted with other survivors the Barracuda Knights found. The sorrow and grief that lingered amongst the survivors. The carriage was quiet, the night already vanishing with daylight slowly smearing the sky.

N'aithin felt the sorrow still swelling in his heart. The sadness. The bitter relapse of old memories of his previous life.

He lost his father back on Earth from war. And now… he lost his father here in Eorzea from a similar fate. It felt like it was a cruel parallel.

His golden eyes peered at the other individuals the Barracuda Knights collected. There was no doubt after the incident in the Carteneau Flats, the three militaries are trying to pick up any potential survivors outside the warzone who were caught in the now gone Primal's rampage. He knew the land would flourish due to the one certain Elezen who stopped Bahamut but right now it wasn't the same for him.

As the carriage continued its journey, the atmosphere remained somber. The survivors huddled together, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and grief. N'aithin's gaze shifted from one face to another, witnessing the traces of sorrow etched upon their features. Each individual had a story, a personal tragedy that brought them here.

In the distance, the first rays of dawn began to streak across the sky, casting a warm glow over the landscape. It was a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed their lives just hours before. N'aithin found solace in the gradual transition from night to day, as if it symbolized the hope that still flickered within their hearts to live another day.

Lost in his thoughts, he clenched his fists, feeling the weight of his own losses. The memories of his father, the pain of separation, and the loss all resurfaced, intertwining with the present.

Why? Why did it have to happen to him again? If he hadn't gone with his father… no, it wouldn't have mattered either way. This was a bitter fate regardless of it all. It was cruelly unfair.

He felt the cart slow to a halt, the reincarnate noticing the Maelstrom soldiers gently helping the survivors step off. N'aithin's golden eyes saw the state of others. The sounds of crying and anguish. Some of the pain is from loss or physical pain.

Some of the civilians were alone.

To personally see the aftermath of such conflict wrenched his heart into a state of sadness. The atmosphere didn't help much either. His gaze lowered, his internal grief swelling to the point it would burst like a dam.

"N'aithin!" He slowly raised his head to notice his mother who looked overwhelmed upon seeing him. Her golden eyes held slivers of tears upon seeing him alive. "Thank the Warden!"

As N'aithin laid eyes upon his mother, her hand pressed against her chest in a gesture of grief, an instinctive need for comfort surged within him. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed forward, enveloping her in an embrace as tears streamed down his face. The weight of sorrow became unbearable, and he crumbled in her arms, his body wracked with inconsolable grief. The magnitude of losing his father was incomprehensible, a shattering blow that left him grappling with the unfathomable yet familiar void that had returned to his heart.

"He's… gone… father's gone…" N'aithin croaked.

His voice cracked with sorrow as he uttered those words, his anguish echoing through the air. His mother held him tightly, her own tears mingling with his, their shared pain intertwining in the embrace.

It took a moment but after their grief somewhat dimmed, N'aithins eyes scanned the surroundings once more. Most of the survivors had reunited with those searching for them. Alas from a majority, there laid one lone individual – a Lalafell. Unlike most Lalafells, the one he noticed was much smaller and based on the crying his ears faintly picked up, it was a young teen.

Casting his gaze upon the solitary Lalafell, tears streaming down the little one's face, the young man turned to the green-haired soldier beside him. An inquiry laced with concern escaped his lips, "What... about the Lalafell over there?"

A somber sigh escaped the greenette as they considered the plight of the forlorn Lalafell. "Given that we haven't come across any others in this part of La Noscea who are connected to him... I'm afraid the lad is left to navigate on his own."

The Barracuda Knight heard a call from her fellow comrades. She gave her partings to the two before assisting her comrades.

N'aithin's gaze never left the Lalafell, nor did he turn away from the young Lominsan's despair and plight. His mind shifted only slightly before he made his decision.

"Mother… can we… take him in?"

"N'aithin, our tribe won't–" his mother began, her voice tinged with concern.

But N'aithin interrupted her, his determination shining through the cracks of his vulnerability. "I want to help, mother..." His voice trailed off, his fingers tightly clutching his palms as if seeking solace. "No one... No one deserves to be left alone."

As he spoke those words, a wave of bittersweet memories washed over him, each one a reminder of the pain he had endured. The loss of his mother and father on Earth had plunged him into a sea of sorrow, leaving him as the sole anchor of their shattered family. In the depths of his heart, the echoes of the familiar loneliness still reverberated, etching their mark upon his very soul.

N'aithin walked over to the young Lalafell, having a closer look. He spotted that same emptiness that the Lalafell held in his dim teal eyes. The parallel emptiness he too experienced in his past life.

Kneeling down before the orphaned Lalafell, the reincarnate extended his hand in a gesture of compassion and goodwill. The orphaned blonde, his eyes brimming with pain, gazed up and found himself captivated by the golden eyes that N'aithin possessed.

In a voice laced with genuine concern, N'aithin offered a lifeline amidst the sea of uncertainty. "I know it's… not much but… do you want to stay with me and my mother?" His words hung in the air, pregnant with the promise of solace and belonging.

The Lalafell was still at first but he lifted his head slightly. His voice barely a fragile whisper, stammered in disbelief, "S-Stay...?"

"You won't be alone." The reincarnate rested a hand against himself. "I promise."

Overwhelmed by emotions, the Lalafell couldn't contain his tears. He sniffled and used the sleeves of his tunic to wipe them away. With each tear wiped away, a faint flicker of hope sparked within him. Slowly, he mustered the strength to follow the young Miqo'te.

For N'aithin, this day was something that will forever scar the depths of his memories for years to come.

A/N: And that is the end of the chapter everyone. As you may have noticed over the past few chapters, four to five years passes for our protagonist and with this, it means we will soon be reaching the start of the ARR arc and THAT will be a long ass arc to work on. Regarding our protagonist now, he is experiencing parallels he had gone through and with it comes the return of old emotions including despair. For now, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and don't forget to leave a review as well as following and favorite the story. See you all later!