Rest and Recovery
It’s dark, comfortable, numb. Huh. Death… is more comfortable than she expected. It's not unlike the great sea of stars at the end of the universe, the last thing she remembers seeing, laying upon the cold, dynamis-formed ground. They were so pretty, calming.
A good place to rest. Just for a little while, she’ll find her eventually. She had made a promise after all.
Her eyes fall closed, were they even open? Can they open? Does it even matter now? She ponders, drifting listlessly.
Sometime later, seconds, minutes, maybe years, she does not know, a pinprick of light starts to glow in front of her, and meager though it is, it warms her body. It’s pleasant, like the warm sun on her face as she sunbathes in the grassy fields of the Steppe. She can just see it through her closed(open?) lids… That must be the aetherial sea, a small part of her questions. It's slowly getting closer, or is she moving towards it?
It says something to her, but it’s muffled. She didn’t know the aetherial sea could speak. It keeps speaking to her, becoming clearer, the light growing brighter, bigger.
o….your…es…
It whispers to her, but it’s hard to make out, she would have to strain to hear but… She’s just so tired, she doesn’t want to try, she wants to sleep. She wants to sink back into that inky abyss, let it carry her away. She wants to see Ysayle again. She’s so close.
It speaks again. Clearer this time as the light shines brighter, it seems to grab her in some way, preventing her from sinking any deeper.
Plea….wake…up!...
Wake… up? But she’s still so tired... And yet, a memory breaks loose in response. Does she know this voice? She should know this voice. She… knows she hates when it sounds like this. That even though she keeps promising otherwise, she keeps making it, no… her, sound like this. She… Her name… Ah, Alisaie, that's it.
Please open your eyes! You can’t… not again!
Her voice rings clearer now, she’s worried. She hates making Alisaie worry. She tries to open her eyes, to tell her she’s alright, just resting, but they’re too heavy. The light keeps growing brighter, getting closer, then it dims for a moment and she sinks, then she hears more voices, frantic, panicking. She tries again, they twitch, and she fights against the lethargy now woven deep in her bones and the light grows once more. She tries to move her arms, her legs, but it's as if her tendons are severed, they hang, dead weight. Keeping her in place, keeping her from them.
The light grows brighter and brighter, she fights and fights against the deep, the voices grow clearer and clearer. As does her head, it’s coming back to her, lucidity. She apologizes, projecting her cries into the sea, it's not her time yet, they still need her. She has other promises to fulfill. Someday, someday, she promises, like a chant. A reassuring warmth surrounds her, buoys her, like a warm embrace scooping her up into knowing, loving arms, carrying her to safety as if saying, I know, I know, go my love… andlive.
Mina opens her eyes
—
Blinding lights shine above her. Everything is so bright, she has to squint, trying and failing to reach a hand up to cover her eyes. Dark shapes move in front of her vision, slowly coming into focus. Alisaie and G’raha lean over her, tears streaming down their faces. Alphinaud diligently applies his healing magicks, his shaky smile widening as he meets her unsteady eyes before Alisaie cuts in front, just about yelling her still sensitive horns off. Telling her off for the stunt she pulled. The other Scions cutting in with their own serious yet loving chides and labored exhales of relief.
Mina can do nothing more than smile tiredly, sluggishly meeting every Scion’s gaze one by one. She lingers on each of her friends, looking them over. They’re safe. They’re all, safe.
Alphinaud catches her attention, he suggests she try to stand, supported by Estinien, she moves to take Thancred’s hand and attempt to stand. Though she doesn’t get very far, almost blacking out from the torrent of pain that slams into her.
Just about everything hurts, her head, her chest, and by the twelve her leg. Not as bad as the Light sickness but holy Dusk Mother it hurts… Mina slumps back down hard, Estinien supporting much of her dead weight. She takes a minute to breathe, to come back to her body, let some of the pain eb away. She opens her eyes again some time later, as the pain falls back to something more manageable. She shakes her head softly, croaking out a quiet, “Not yet.”
The rest of the flight goes by quickly, the Scions not leaving Mina's side even for a minute. Talking quietly amongst themselves, Alisaie and G’raha still stuck to her. Halfway through the trip her eyes start to droop, her exhaustion catching up with her, until interrupted by Y’shtola lightly shaking her awake, explaining apologetically that she cannot sleep yet. Not in the fragile state her body is in. She may not wake up again if she did, after all.
—
The Ragnarok rocks gently in the bay of Old Sharlayan as the Scions are greeted by the ecstatic faces of Tataru, Krile, and what Mina estimates may just be all of Old Sharlayan. Estinien carries her down the plank cradled comfortably in his arms. Mina smiles to herself, if Ysayle could see the two of them now... Estinien notices her grin and huffs, shifting her weight a little, “Let’s not do this a third time, yes?” Mina just chuckles lightly, laying her aching head against cool metal, careful of her horns near his face.
He huffs again in feigned annoyance, “You’re heavier than you look you know.” That gets a bark of laughter out of Mina, making her wince, also earning Estinien a very ineffective slap against his armored shoulder. “You wound me, ser knight.” She closes her eyes, breathing in the fresh air and ocean breeze, letting him carry her through the ecstatic crowd.
She is immediately brought to the chirurgeons to look over her lingering injuries, and with some prodding from Mina herself, the rest of the Scions leave her alone long enough to get themselves checked on as well. Alphinaud is the first to make it back to her, just in time to catch the end of her examination, and to catch the news that makes both Scions go still.
Her leg isn’t savable, the damage Zenos had done was too deep, there wasn’t much holding it together even after Aplhinaud’s quick healing. They have to amputate lest she risk infection, and a slow and painful death.
—
The Scions take turns waiting in Mina’s recovery room with her for days. She’s yet to wake up long enough to hold any kind of conversation of substance, constantly in and out of sleep. Yet even so, Alisaie had insisted someone should always accompany her, ‘You wouldn’t want her to wake up to an empty room would you?’ and Y’shtola couldn’t argue with that.
They had to amputate halfway down her shin, to avoid the mangled skin and splintered bones. Y’shtola shutters thinking about it, she personally knows how terrifying the former prince of Garlemald could be. She shakes her head and sighs, setting down her book. It’s a journal detailing notes about the Void. She had found it in the archives, and disappointingly it doesn’t seem to have anything pertinent to her investigations, so she might as well do something useful.
Standing up from her spot next to Mina’s bed she walks over to the foot of the bed. She grabs fresh bandages and goes about dutifully cleaning and rewrapping her injuries. As Y’shtola is burning the used bandages into an ash bowl she hears a shuffle of sheets and a groan from behind her. She’s awake.
—
Mina sets her now empty bowl of soup on the bedside table, exhaling contently. She finally feels a bit more like her usual self, she hadn’t eaten much of anything these past days the chirurgeon informed her. For her part she doesn’t remember much, just pain filled tossing and turning then exhaustion-bred deep sleep.
What she does know is, she despises being stuck in bed. Every other time she's been majorly injured she didn’t have the time to rest like this. That's what she told herself at least, now she thinks maybe it was just to avoid this exact scenario. She looks down and clenches her fists, tight enough to aggravate the cuts on her knuckles. She glares at her wrapped leg, who knows if she even can get out of bed like those times.
A knock at the door interrupts her train of thought, and the Scions let themselves in “Ah! Good, you’re decent. We’ve got a lot” Thancred shouts as he waddles in, seemingly being elected pack mule for… flowers? And stuffed toys? And paper?
“Thancred? What is all of this..?” “Ah- about that” Alphinaud sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “we may have inadvertently let it slip that you were still in recovery…” “And some grateful admirers wished to show their support and send their well wishes” Y’shtola finishes, gesturing to the half a dozen vases of flowers Thancred’s setting down, a teasing smirk on her face.
Mina just hides her face in her blanket, “Ugh… I was quite hoping no one would find out…” she sighs, looking at her growing stack of gifts,”It uh, is quite nice of them though, I suppose?” “‘You suppose?’” Alisaie asks, only pausing her digging through the pile for a second to look back at her.
“It's just,” Mina pauses, frowning, “I’ve never been given gifts for being injured before? This isn’t a custom in the Steppe at least.”
Alisaie makes a noise of understanding while picking up a red stuffed carbuncle plush from the pile, “I suppose it’s more common here then, when the Star isn’t in imminent danger that is.”
Once all the gifts and what turned out to be letters are read and sorted, Mina sits back into her pillows, feeling thoroughly exhausted already, the Scions all gather around, sitting on the bed with her or finding their own chairs, or leaning against a wall in Estiniens case. She closes her eyes, resting them for a moment just as Thancred speaks up.
“So… Mina, how are you faring?”
It’s odd hearing her actual name from his lips. She pops an eye open before sitting up a little, “A bit better every day, most of the cuts are scabbed over by now. Just waiting to leave.”
“That’s good and all, but you know that wasn’t what I was asking.” He’s giving her a look, like she can’t get away from this topic. Especially with how all eyes are on her, she is surrounded.
She sighs and rubs her face, “Honestly Thancred? I don’t quite know.” she pauses for a moment, staring blankly at her leg. “What-” she stops, getting choked up. Tears begin to well up in her eyes faster than she can wipe them away. She doesn’t cry in front of others, almost never. And yet, here and now she finds she doesn’t care. “What am I supposed to do now? I’m supposed to be the Warrior of Light, how can I do that, protect people, if I can’t even stand?...” Her hands move nervously, picking at the deep purple scales adorning them.
A calloused hand covers her own, stilling them, “You aren’t just your ability to fight, Mimi, you know that right? You’ve so much more to offer” Alisaie says, her voice gentle yet adamant. Mina laughs a little at the nickname.
“Just because that’s what you’ve done up until now, does not mean that's all you can do” Alphinaud finishes.
Y’shtola is the next to speak up, “Don’t misunderstand, you won’t be alone in this either.” This gets Mina to look up, meeting Y’shtola’s milky gaze out of habit, “It will be a learning curve undoubtedly, yet when have you not risen to the challenge of learning a new skill? Not to mention, if you’d be amenable to the idea, I for one already have some number of ideas that may help with your situation.”
Urianger sets a gentle, steadying hand on her still-whole right leg, “Thou hast overcome many trials and bested greater foes before, thou shan’t give up hope so easily mine dearest friend. As Y’shtola mentioned we shall endeavor to assist however we are able to, if thou shall have us.”
Estinien leaves his place on the other side of the room, coming closer to the bed. “You saved my life, and the lives of all here, time and time again. It’s about time we repay the favor eh? We aren’t going anywhere.”
Mina stares at her family, her mouth slightly agape in stunned silence, tears now threatening to spill over, she looks to each of her friends. To all of their faces, filled with love and support, directed at her. Here for her. Staying, not leaving, not abandoning her, and she lets go. Head slumping, hands rising to cover her eyes, she cries for all to see.
Alisaie, seated on the bed next to her, pulls her into a big hug, ever mindful of her injuries, a teary eyed Tataru joins soon after. Then, Alphinaud, pulling Estinien along as well, G’raha, and finally Thancred dragging Urianger and Y’shtola in for a group hug. Mina cries and cries until she tires herself out, eventually falling asleep on Alisaie’s shoulder, as her family holds her tight.
—
A casually dressed Mina pushes open the large doors of the Crystal tower, the Light-free sunlight bathing her in that familiar warmth she’s come to know and love from the Crystarium. The fresh breeze easy to feel in her loose fitting button up and baggy pants, a large backpack on her back, a little stuffed red carbuncle nose sticking out of a zipper.
The guards stationed outside the door barely react to the doors opening, having long since gotten used to the Warrior of Darkness coming and going, they give her a pleasant nod as she makes her way to the large staircase, where she stops.
It’s… a lot more stairs than she remembers. She adjusts her grip on her new crutches. She’s been learning to use them the last couple of weeks during her stay in Old Sharlayan. With the enthusiastic support of Alisaie pushing her forward, and Estinien picking her up when she falls – literally and figuratively – she soon became quite good at getting around with them, once again being able to speed around the city, like she’s been known to do.
She’s gotten comfortable moving with them, but stairs… Well, big staircases are still quite daunting. She shuffles on foot between crutches, examining her options. One of the guards – Torrad, if she remembers correctly – approaches, “Excuse me mistress Tumet, do you… would you like some assistance?” As he gestures vaguely towards the stairs she's been glaring daggers at.
“Oh! No, I don’t think I will” she gives him a small smile, “I can handle it.” He nods before retreating to his post, and Mina exhales, turning back to the stairs. She can do this, she’s killed gods! What’s some lousy set of stairs to the Warrior of Light?! She puffs up her chest a little about to start descending, before stopping dead. Granted, they are a quite tall set of stairs…
She growls in annoyance, “C’mon Mina get it together…” mumbling under her breath, “Alisaie would be disappointed if she saw this, just, move.”
Nodding to herself, she starts to slowly climb her way down the large staircase, eventually getting into a comfortable rhythm. A couple minutes later she safely reaches the bottom, exhausted, but proud of herself.
Her body isn’t quite used to the strain yet. After taking a minute to breathe, she sets her sights on the Wandering Stairs, excitement fueling her.
—
The next time she sees G’raha she has a bone to pick with him and his design choices. Mina curses under her breath, climbing up the third set of stairs along her way. There are way too many stairs in this place. Finally reaching the top of the hell of stairs, the Wandering Stairs – she finds no comedy in this – is finally in view. And so is Cyella.
Mina leans on her crutches, watching with a fond smile on her face as Cyella crosses to the other side of the bar, dutifully tending to a table, making small talk with the patrons; oblivious to her presence. Mina is allowed a couple of seconds to admire her from afar until a familiar voice calls out to her from the bar.
“Oi! Lali-ho Mina!” the hardy dwarf Giott yells over, standing on one of the bar stools waving her hand in greeting. Mina attempts to wave back with a crutch, a smile on her face, she turns back to Cyella only to see her staring back at her, notepad shaking slightly in her hands.
Mina smiles in response, which seems to break Cyella out of her stupor as she just about runs over to meet her. And yeah, the hug she gets is reward enough for everything she went through. Neither woman says anything for a time, just enjoying the warmth of the other, Cyella squeezing Mina tightly, as if to make sure she’s real.
“I’ve missed you too Cyl” She holds her tighter, “I remember telling you not to call me that'' she whispers, Mina's almost sure Cyella can feel her smile grow against her shoulder, “You love it.” Cyella finally releases her from the hug, yet still holding Mina by the shoulders. She looks at her face, eyeing every scratch and scar, “You’re back. Truly? It’s over then?” Mina just nods, turning her head, she kisses Cyella’s hand.
The elf lets go of a breath she was holding. Then her face gets serious, oh- she's in trouble.
“One message” she practically growls, “One lousy message from Feo Ul for three weeks. Three weeks I had to wait to hear how you were faring.” She huffs, leaning back, looking over Mina’s body, stopping at her leg. Her voice gets quieter, the anger dropping off.
A hand drops to her hip, as if to stabilize, or ground her. Who’s stabilizing who Mina doesn’t know. “And I told you to be careful…” she sighs, the mock annoyance coming back, not quite masking up the unsteadiness in her voice. “For a conjurer supposedly as talented as you are, you’re quite horrendous at taking care of yourself.” The hand on her hip pinches her, emphasizing her frustration. Mina just laughs awkwardly, not having anything to say to rebuke her point. Cyella glares at her, “I’m being serious.” “I know… I’m alright, really, or I will be, in time” Mina tries to comfort, not quite knowing who she’s comforting more.
Feeling eyes on her, Mina glances behind Cyella, catching many bar-goers watching their very public reunion, including Giott who’s grinning largely at her.
“Ahem… Maybe we should continue this somewhere else?...” “Ah-” Cyella clears her throat, her stoic mask falling back in place, and turns around, still keeping one hand on Mina, she looks to Glynard who just nods in response. Glynard turns to the crowd, moving to disperse them back to their tables as Cyella turns back.
“My room?'' Before Mina can finish nodding, Cyella, seemingly with little effort, sweeps her up into her arms. Mina squeaks out a not-so-dignified shout of surprise, just barely holding tight to her crutches as she frantically grabs hold of Cyella, “Cyella!? I can walk just fine, you know!?” Mina sputters out, face reddening. The elf just chuckles, her voice carrying a slyness worthy of the former Shadowkeeper as she ducks down close to a horn, “Oh, I know.”
Mina just hides her face in Cyella’s chest, “Aren’t you worried people will talk?... Things involving me tend to get spread around.” “Not at all.” Cyella responds confidently, with an added smirk. All Mina can muster in response is a muffled whine as she presses her face closer, hiding. Her tail on the other hand with a mind of its own, joyfully swings back and forth the whole way home.
—
Static noise surrounds her, then, notes on a piano. They echo around her, surround her. She’s heard this song before…
Her eyes open, she’s walking, snow crunching underneath her booted feet. Garlemald. Her hands clench and relax in her gloves, clench and relax. She looks up, and Alisaie’s there. She smiles, she opens her mouth in greeting, but nothing comes out, her mouth doesn’t open. Alisaie looks at her, confused, “Mimi? What’s wrong?”
Mina slips her trusty scythe off of her back, a stark white blade gifted to her by the fae king of the First, but she didn’t move her arms. Alisaie’s expression turns to horror, her eyes going wide as she backpedals. She’s not quick enough, she couldn’t be, and Mina yells out, the sound echoing in her head. Her body doesn’t obey her as she darts forward in chase, her legs moving against her will, her arms raising her scythe as she fights and fights to take control. But she can’t.
Alisaie doesn’t even have a chance to scream before she’s cut down, red staining the white blade. Blood splatters onto Mina’s face, jacket, and Alisaie drops, the warm liquid spilling out and pooling around her, steaming as it falls onto cool snow. Mina screams and rages, yet still no sound escapes. She tries to close her eyes, to look away, but she can’t, she's a passenger in her own body. All she can do is watch in absolute horror as her friend, her little sister, bleeds out below her, hand raised in the air towards her as if asking for help, until it too slumps to the ground. The life completely drained from her eyes.
Mina raises her hand to her face, finally in control, her fingers touch the warm blood there, and stills as she realizes. Her body, her face… she’s… smiling. A wicked, evil, manic thing. One befitting the crown prince.
And a haunting piano sweeps it all away.
—
Mina’s eyes fly open as she jolts awake. Her breaths come rapidly, out of rhythm, her heart thundering in her chest. She tastes bile in her mouth, a warning. She needs to leave, right now. She tries to slip out of bed, wincing as the frame creaks. She pauses, straining, calm breathing is all she hears from the woman next to her. Her hands shake as she grabs her crutches from the bedside, exiting swiftly.
The cool evening air immediately helps to steady her breathing and stomach as her steps take her down a now well-worn path. Rounding a crystalline corner she arrives at her destination, a little garden at the base of the tower, overlooking a sprawling mountain range. It’s nothing special, a single metal bench surrounded by a couple dozen white carnations, themselves surrounded in weeds. Yet, it’s her favorite place in the Crystarium, few know about it. It’s her favorite place to go when she needs to be alone. She leans against the railing, looking out over the fog and trees, the moon casting a gentle light over it all. Mina sighs, setting her forehead against the cool metal.
She breathes out, the chill of the metal against her still overheated skin grounding her in reality. She breathes in deeply, focusing on the sensations she feels around her. Cold railing, hard stone, soft shirt, smooth crutch. Cold railing, hard stone, soft shirt, hot blood on her face- Her breath hitches and she clenches her teeth splitting open her lip with a fang. It’s not real. It’s not real. She tastes blood. No! Her hands tighten around cold steel, bending it slightly. No, no… That never happened. You bit your lip, that’s just your lip, your blood. She’s alive, I stopped him, I killedhim. He didn’t touch them…
They’ve become recurring, these nightmares. Nightmares have haunted her ever since Ysayle’s death, but, the more she sees, the more just piles on and on. The Light, Zenos, the Final Days, Ultima Thule, The Endsinger. All of them, though now gone, find her still in quiet moments. And that song. That godsdamned song on the radio. Their anthem, or whatever sort of Imperial slop it was. It won’t leave her head, that piano, their singing.
She takes a breath in, it’s still shaky. She shivers, her eyes locked onto the peaks in the distance, maybe she should’ve worn something warmer. This place though, despite the cold, always helps here feel more at ease, safe in the quiet of the night. As if the spectars that haunt her, can’t quite reach her here. Usually, that is. But this dream, that song… she can’t quite seem to shake.
“Mina.” The woman in question jumps, her tail sticking up sharply, startled out of her jumbled thoughts. She looks at her guest, “Cyella… should have guessed you would notice… I’m sorry for waking you.” She arrives at Mina’s side with a melancholic smile on her face, “It wasn’t until recently where I haven’t felt the need to sleep with one eye open. Old habits die hard. So don’t worry yourself about it. I’m more concerned with what you’re doing out here, distracted enough that I could sneak up on you without even trying. Again, for that matter.”
She reaches down slowly, giving time for Mina to back away, before taking a trembling hand gently into her own and bringing it up to her lips, planting a kiss onto its back. “Was it another one of those dreams?” She just nods. Cyella hums, “Would you like to talk about it?” Mina shakes her head, “It’s more of the same... Just needed to get out of that room, it was too stuffy, claustrophobic.”
Cyella nods, she looks at the bench, those icy white flowers, “Come sit with me.” Mina looks at her, feels the warmth radiating from the hand holding her own, and smiles, allowing Cyella to help balance her as they sit down. They sit for a time, hand in hand. Even after everything that happened, she can’t help but feel at ease gazing at that endless sea of stars. Here most of all. Mina loses track of how long they’ve sat, with Cyella’s fingers tracing gentle paths over her rough and scarred scales, the pleasant feeling slowly emptying the au ra’s mind of all else.
She must have dozed off at one point, as when she next awakens the moon has progressed much along its nightly path, but as her head rests comfortably on Cyella’s lap, she can’t seem to find it in herself to feel embarrassed. Cyella’s hand in her unkempt hair comes to a stop as she notices her shift, “Are you awake?” Mina hums a groggy affirmation, enjoying the well of warmth underneath her. “Come, let us return to a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, this can’t be great for either of us.” Mina yawns, begrudgingly sitting up. She stretches, her tail going taut, “I did not mean to fall asleep…”
Cyella stands, reaching a hand to help Mina up, handing her her crutches, “It’s quite alright. I hadn’t wanted to wake you. You needed the rest… not to mention you were quite adorable, even if you did drool on me.” Mina swats at her arm, indignant yet simultaneously trying and failing to wipe her chin. Prompting a laugh from Cyella, who licks her thumb, and unabashedly wipes it clean herself. Mina flushes bright red, stuttering in exasperation, prompting another chuckle from Cyella as she starts the short walk back.
“Shut it.”