Chapter Text
In the moment right before the false king’s blow lands, she’s furious with him, that foolish man who’d insisted on her safety only to throw himself into an even worse danger. Distantly, she wondered if she had any right to be angry in the way she does. They were both mimics of someone else’s memories—for the Goddess’s sake, he wasn’t even real. None of this was, the fake king and the fake cities and the fake god.
In the moment where he’s thrust onto his knees, the electrope core in his chest flickering weakly in tandem with her own, the moment where she can see the black box struggle to hold the concept of Alxaal together, her temper fades and she focuses herself wholly on channeling the light magic that courses through her into him, a voice she doesn’t recognize as her own screaming his name.
Damn it all, it wasn’t even real white magic, just more levin tricking itself. An element she knew to be aspected towards disintegration and destruction masquerading as white magic powerful enough to mend the worst of his injuries.
Prishe was still hurt that they’d had her stay behind, both him and the adventurer of this world, but it was a distant sort of worry by now. She should’ve been there with both of them through the whole campaign. She knew—even if she couldn’t exactly recall how—that Alxaal was her treasured friend, and there was no way she’d be able to face Meteor if they weren’t all making it out of this battle alive.
“Don’t you dare give up!” She hisses to him through gritted teeth in between incantations. Under the gashes in the once-white plate of his armor, she can see the worst of the bleeding begin to slow, wounds knitting together at an agonizing rate. There was so much more left to do! There was the whole rest of this world to see, a whole Vana’diel to return to. Imagine the stories they would tell! They just had to survive—
Alxaal raises a gauntleted hand that shakes with exhaustion and grabs onto her forearm to brace himself. “Don’t you worry about me.” He tries to reassure her as he hauls himself upright, nearly all of his weight thrown onto the longsword firmly thrust into the ground.
Prishe snorts, tilting away to swipe at a tear that threatened to escape the corner of her eye. “Look at you, trying to act cool at a time like this.”
There’d be time to give him grief later. For now, they had more pressing matters, like kicking the arse of an overgrown lizard. Prishe shakes the anticipation out of her arms before raising her fists and settling into a practiced stance.
They’d definitely have one hell of a story to share.
Even after the last few moons in the city together, she still didn't understand everything about Alxaal. She’d never seen him out of the armor—ridiculous, considering Tuliyollal’s heat. It was honestly baffling how he managed to jog around in full plate under the blazing sun, doubly so when considering the temptation of white sands and glittering seawater.
Sure, neither of them had proper swimwear, but it wasn’t like their cores had survived battling echoes of several gods only to be defeated by a strong wave. The thought was silly enough on its own. It would’ve been awfully nice to just kick off her shoes and splash around for a bit, but if the incessant flicker of her shadow at their feet was any indication, there simply wasn’t any more time to waste on stalling.
Prishe can’t help but feel a little wistful standing side by side next to Alxaal, looking out over the top of the city as the breeze carries up and rustles through her hair.
She bumps against him with her shoulder. “It was fun out here, eh?”
He nods, gaze held forward towards the sea. “Have you said all your goodbyes yet?”
The shorter of the pair groans as they turn away from the view and start down the long path back towards Jeuno. “More than enough. That big lunk got all emotional.” Prishe falls silent, all her bravado dissipating as she kicks at a pebble. “I think I’ll miss this place.” She confesses as they continue down the road, her eyes scanning for their hume friend. Meteor was waiting somewhere near the city gates to help escort them safely.
“Myself as well.” He agrees after a lull. “But so long as we hold our companions in our hearts, we’re certain to meet again.” It was a terribly sappy way to phrase it, but she would always appreciate that sincerity of his.