Chapter 7: Out of the Woods
Y'shtola's words before they left Slitherbough, while appreciated, knocked a considerable amount of wind out of his proverbial sails. He had already been trying not to think about whether he would be able to take on all of the Light from the Lightwardens and survive it - a part of him was expecting to die, a part that was far larger than he was comfortable with - and having her point it out only bolstered those churning thoughts.
Alphinaud picked up on his lost appetite immediately upon their return to the Crystarium and passed him food without saying a word on the matter. None of the others asked him directly about it but he caught their concerned glances.
It was probably for the best that none of them broached the topic. They quickly got too busy for such idle chatter until he was certain it had become commonplace. Ardbert, however, was not about to leave it unspoken
"You have to eat something."
"Not hungry," was his automatic response as he went about getting ready for bed. He wasn't even sure if he would get any sleep but he had to at least try.
"Oh, don't give me that. You haven't touched anything all day."
A frown pulled across his face. "Alphinaud passed me two different things today. I touched both of them."
"And ate less than a quarter of one combined," Ardbert retorted, sounding frustrated and fed up and a bit too concerned for his liking. "At least one of the little sandwiches. Come on, Echo'a. Meet me halfway on this and just eat one."
Bile rose in his throat at the very thought and he had to stop with his hands still in his bag, deliberately slowing his breathing in hopes it would quell the sudden roll of nausea. "No," he said into the quiet room, the word gravely on the back of his throat. He swallowed. "Just…" a shudder of disgust rolled through his body and he went back to what he had been doing, desperate for the distraction, "leave it. Please."
"You have to eat something!"
"I can't!" he shouted, startling himself when he found he had turned to yell back. Meeting Ardbert's surprised, worried gaze shoved tears in his throat so fast, he struggled to keep them out of his eyes. "I just…can't," Echo'a repeated, far calmer and far quieter than his shout. It still rang in his ears.
"Why not?" Ardbert asked, his expression twisting with confusion and concern so thick, he had to look away.
"Because it's only going to make me sick."
"I highly doubt the Exarch would poison-"
"He wouldn't," he cut in vehemently. It wasn't enough, though. Those particular thoughts grew louder, bolstered by Arbert's words, blending with the turmoil that was already robbing him of his appetite.
"Then why-"
He turned on Ardbert, glaring at the other. He was certain the tears in his eyes negated the anger he was trying to throw at him. "I don't want the food. I don't want to eat anything and if I force that down my throat, my body will reject it faster than it could do me any good. I can't eat right now, Ardbert, and I need you to understand that."
"But you're not explaining it in a way that I can!"
He came up short at that, realizing he was trembling in the same instance. It was apparent he didn't want to tell Ardbert the very thing he had shared with Alphinaud but what he couldn't figure out was why. Why was he refusing to give Ardbert any more information? Why was he fighting against the one soul that deserved every chance of open communication and companionship afforded him?
He blinked and a tear streaked down his cheek. He rubbed at the track, hating the sensation, only to find himself unable to keep back the sobs. The bed dragged at his arm and his side as he sank to the floor and curled in on himself, drowning in the despair he had been denying himself. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to be the one to sacrifice everything for the worlds to survive. He didn't want to be the one burdened with the worlds' hope. He didn't want to die or be turned into a sin eater. He didn't want- he didn't want…
He felt so alone.
"It's ok; you're ok," drifted in among the swells of emotions and thoughts, gentle and calm in a way he fervently clung to. "You're ok," Ardbert repeated, his voice far closer than he had ever heard it before.
He stopped crying shortly thereafter but it felt far too soon despite how worn he was. As he turned his focus to something that wasn't his own inner turmoil, he found Ardbert kneeling in front of him so close, he was certain that a minute shift would have made their legs touch had Ardbert had a corporeal form. Ardbert offered him a weak smile. "There you are. You're ok now. You're not alone in this."
He expected some swell of emotion at Ardbert's words as the other said the very thing he had collided with while crying, but nothing came. Only the seemingly endless pull of exhaustion and a heavy sort of numbness.
At his lack of response, Ardbert's weak smile fell. There was an attempt to put it back but it never took as Ardbert gently asked, "Do you think you could manage some tea? There ought to be something nibble worthy on the table you can try to eat with it if you think you'd be up for it. Better than nothing, at least."
Could he? It took a moment to consider the question and he found that, yes, he could. He nodded.
Relief flickered across Ardbert's face. "Ok, good. Up you get, then. We both know I can't help you with that."
Ardbert remained kneeling as he got himself up off the floor. For a moment Echo'a just stood there, leaning most of his weight into his hand on the mattress as he let his head hang, allowing for a moment the exhaustion to pull heavily against him. Ardbert stood and he opened his eyes only to find Ardbert's calm expression had twisted into something akin to pain. "I hate being dead." Ardbert met his gaze and tried - and failed - to pull a cocky grin into place. "Can't give you a hug like this, can I?"
His heart suddenly ached for a tight embrace, the reassurance of another physical body present that he truly was not alone in this. But Ardbert couldn't provide that and he had gone that long without; what was a bit longer?
He chuckled in response, the sound breathy and making it feel like he was going to cry again. "Appreciate the thought, at least." His words were no less breathy than his chuckle had been. He took his hand off the mattress. "Come sit with me?"
Ardbert nodded. "Of course."
If Ardbert was surprised when he sat on the floor near the stove, he didn't show it. Ardbert sat down next to him, an arm propped up on an upturned knee, and absently watched him eat one of the small sandwiches. "I really would have been happy if all you had was some tea. Nibbling on something edible had been a bit of wishful thinking."
He shrugged. "The crying helped."
Ardbert's expression sombered at that.
He swallowed the last of the sandwich and curled around his hot mug feeling far too tired. The heat from the stove probably wasn't helping. "Eating can be…a challenge at times," he finally offered, his voice barely loud enough to fill the space between them. "Usually it's texture or taste that gets to me. Anything that isn't consistent with everything else or just too much in the way of flavor, they're the sorts of things that make it hard to keep eating when they happen." He turned the mug so that the handle was around his other hand before he continued. "I've also had to deal with an endless barrage of "everything I eat is poison" bouncing around my head until I physically can not stomach anything, but thankfully that doesn't happen as often anymore. For the most part, at least."
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Ardbert coaxed, "And now?"
Echo'a pulled in a slow breath, tipping his head back against the table he was using as a back rest. "Too many emotions, too much grief or the like, that will also make it hard for me to eat, too. I just…sort of go numb from it and that numbness tends to kill my appetite while it's at it."
"I'm…." Ardbert started. "I can't imagine how hard that has been for you."
He shrugged, dropping his gaze to his mug. "Been like this for my whole life. You get used to it."
"But that doesn't mean it gets any easier."
He rubbed at an ear, idly wondering if he could get away with sleeping on the floor in front of the stove. Probably not. "No. It does not," he finally agreed.
"Does anything help?"
He had to look at Ardbert's face to understand the tone behind his words. Ardbert readily met his gaze, serious and determined. A fond smile tugged at his lips at the sight of it. "Outside of actually feeling my feelings?" he asked rhetorically, lifting his mug in a way to acknowledge that moment in particular. "Being distracted helps. Alphinaud got into the habit of feeding me any time we ended up in a meeting with someone while we were in Ishgard."
Ardbert chuckled at that, tension easing from Ardbert's shoulders. "And they just allowed it?"
Echo'a snorted. "Like anyone was going to tell the 'Warrior of Light' he couldn't eat during a meeting. I had a reputation even back then that made the common man wary of my strength. Imagine the reputation with destroying five Lightwardens."
Ardbert shook his head with a huff of a laugh. Echo'a appreciated it when he chose not to point out the flat tone in the joke. Ardbert was well enough aware at that point that he could care less about such reputations. Instead, Ardbert pulled his attention away from the last of his tea, holding it until the mug was well and empty before coaxing him to get some sleep in the bed rather than on the floor.
He was certain that, had Ardbert had a corporeal form, Ardbert would have simply picked him up and tucked him in rather than trying to get him to do it himself. He seemed like the sort of soul to do that.
It didn't take long for one last Lightwarden to remain. He knew where it was, too. After passing through the domains of four of them, he knew where else he had felt something similar, something far more potent to the point that it had nearly made him sick. When Ryne pointed them in the direction of Eulmore, he was relieved he wasn't wrong.