Traveler

She found herself in quite a bit of pain, as she was now laying down on a bed. Her sight was darkened by an unlit room, and a wet cloth. A hand was holding onto hers. She groggily looked to the holder. She was greeted with a pair of green eyes, the miqo’te markings on her face seemed more dark compared to usual—but that might have been due to the lighting. She tried to rise, but felt a hand push her shoulder back down. 

“No—don’t get up. You developed a fever after vomiting blood.” She shook her head. “I’ve done the best I could to help, but this isn’t something I can fix.”

Azlyn groaned, turning her head back up to the ceiling. “H-how long was I out?”

The Miqo’te frowned. “Half a day—I’m surprised you’re even up to be honest.” She removed the cloth from her forehead, and pressed her hand upon it—the cool skin against hers felt pretty good. “You haven’t broken through the fever quite yet.”

“This feeling—why does it feel like my energy is drained?”

Y’shtola leaned back into her chair. She had a grim expression. “It’s not advised to pull from your own aetheric energy to cast magicks designed to be pulled through a medium.” She shook her head. “In order to cast an astral aether formulae without your book, you used the umbral aether surrounding your own flesh and blood to attack the Ascian.” 

Azlyn sat up from the bed, ignoring Y’shtola’s warning. Her upper body felt like she had a ton of bricks upon her shoulders. “Because I managed to change my passive energy into active energy without a tool?” 

Y’shtola frowned. “Something like that—perhaps you should take some time to read about why the War of the Magi ended an entire population of peoples with it’s usage of magicks. It might explain more about what you managed to do, and why it’s considered a taboo.” 

She sighed, she’d remembered tales about it from school—but didn’t actually think it was manageable. “I will heed your advice. I’m sorry to have burdened you.”

The Miqo’te gave her an even stare, probably judging her condition from where she was sitting. “You’ll probably have a weaker constitution because of this. More like to get sick when you overwork yourself. Just be careful with what you do from now on.” 

She nodded, looking down at the bedsheets over her lap. Her head felt a bit woozy. 

“Will I be kicked out from the Arcanist’s Guild? If I broke a taboo, I mean?” 

“I don’t believe so. The Admiral pulled a few strings, and explained why it was you were forced to do such a thing. She also suggested we find you a permanent Grimoire to keep with you—so I’ve offered to get one for you.” The Miqo’te kept a level eye on her. “I’ll be a bit busy, but the next time you wake up, I’ll be gone. Take it easy, and recuperate your strength.”

The girl wondered what Y’shtola meant by procuring a book for her. Although she felt her head begin to hurt again. Y’shtola decided to push her back down into a lying position, tucking in the blankets around her. 

“Sleep. Your fever will not break if you keep pushing yourself.” Y’shtola lifted her wand over her and a wash of energy slipped over her.

Azlyn bobbed her head, feeling a soothing coolness wrap around her. The darkened room turned to an absolute black, and she felt herself fall into a listless sleep. She wasn’t sure for long long she was asleep, or what time of day it was when she woke again. The room had remained unchanged, only this time Y’shtola was not present and there were quite a few new trinkets, books, papers and tools surrounding the room. Confused, she tried to pull herself up from her position. 

The windows had been drawn back to allow the sunshine in. She lifted her hand to find it wrapped in several bandages, wondering when she wound up hurting herself. Beside her resting location had been a basin filled with clean water and a wash cloth. When she looked at the books, some of the text looked familiar—Sharlayan in nature. Many of them dealt with restoration and stabilizing aetherial energies, but mostly for inorganic materials. She picked up one, flipping the book cover open to read the introduction. 

She was about three paragraphs into the page when she heard the door open. Looking up, she saw Baderon carrying in a bowl of steaming liquid. He caught her eye, smirking at her.

“Mornin’ sunshine, all a bit much fer ye, was it?”

Azlyn closed the book, letting it rest on her lap. She stared around the room, and back to the proprietor. “Worked myself too hard.” Baderon replaced the water basin by her side and handed her a damp cloth. She accepted it from him and pressed it into her neck. It felt a bit jarring, as she wasn’t in her formal attire from before. She’d been changed into a simple chemise and short combination. “Who changed me?”

“Some ‘riend o’ yers. They’ve been ‘ere a couple days moniterin’ ye.” He moved over to the chair by her bed, taking a seat. “Ye’ve got some good friend’s lass.”

She was confused by this, “Friends?”

He smirked. Raising his finger up to make a point. “Y’shtola made some calls over to Sharlayan, I guess some folks over there jumped out their bones when they heard ye were sick. They went to get some grub down below..”

A chill ran down her spine. “W-who did Y’shtola call?”

Before Baderon could answer, the door creaked open once again. Azlyn saw the three enter and immediately went into fight or flight mode. Baderon was surprised when the Au Ra tried to run to the window.  “What in tarnation!”

She looked at her options to jumping out before the chilling voice of the slightly younger Lalafell behind her stopped her in her tracks. Her leg was already up on the windowsill with the balcony window wide open. 

“You better sit yourself back down into that bed or by the Twelve I’ll put you there myself.” A Lalafell dressed in a yellow cowl with a cat-like motive on the hood walked in, she was glaring at her from underneath the hood. She was carrying a brown paper bag full of food and drink.

Standing right behind her were two others, a Lalafell male with long liliac colored hair, dressed in simple traveling robes and had his glasses squarely upon his nose. The other was holding also holding a few bags in his arms, his red hair braided into a simple braid behind the nape of his neck, his Miqo’te ears and tail flexed as he sternly gave her a look.

It wasn’t as if she were afraid of their presence, per say. It was more or less the feeling like her friends from back home would drag her back. She was a little worried that she’d be forced to go back after burdening everyone. Her friend Krile Baldesion sighed. “Excuse us Mr. Baderon, we’re going to need a moment in private.” 

Baderon looked between Azlyn frozen in place, and the young Lalafell glaring daggers at her. He finally turned to Azlyn. “When yer prim and feelin’ ready, come see me below. I got a message fer when yer better.” He smirked, waving a hand as he stretched out from the chair. 

Azlyn looked ready to stop him, but the silent stares from her friends killed the voice in her throat. She watched Baderon walked over to Ejika who held open the door for him. 

“She’s in good hands.”

Krile proceeded to walk over to one of the desks in the room, placing the bag on the table. The stifling silence in the room made it awkward for Azlyn to move from her spot. It was only when Krile had turned to her did she speak harshly. “Sit down.”

Azlyn robotically moved from the edge, facing them, and plopped herself on the ground. She was formally sitting on her legs, wondering if the sweats were from her fever now or from sheer terror. Krile walked up to her and started an assessment. She gripped her chin and turned her face to the side several times before sighing. “Twelve Preserve, what did you do to yourself? Jumble your aether like a puzzle?”

G’raha placed the bags he was carrying over to the desk as well, but Azlyn couldn’t follow him with her eyes as Krile snapped her head up to have a better look at her neck. After a supple amount of time, Krile commanded. “Hands.” 

Azlyn gave her both, and felt her flipping her wrists to examine her palms and fingers. The room was still an eerie quiet as she was being examined.  

Ejika pulled one chair up to watch. “Archon Baldesion was worried over nothing. She looks fine to me.” 

Krile sighed, looking over her shoulder to him. “You’re not seeing what I’m diagnosing. She’s severely damaged the aetherflow from her head, chest, and arm. You think this is fine?” 

Ejika shrugged, “That’s why we’re here aren’t we? She’s gonna get fixed, and then we go back to our field assignments. G’raha, you’re abnormally quiet, say something.”

G’raha moved over by Krile’s side, “She’d probably be more at ease in bed then kneeling Krile.” 

The Lalafell sighed. She released her before turning to several of her books they brought with them. Before Azlyn could do anything else, G’raha had reached down and grabbed her by her hands. He helped her up and guided her back to the bed without saying anything else. When she was sitting properly, he had already grabbed a cloth to dab her forehead. 

“I can do that.” She replied, reaching up to grab it. He pulled it away from her, his eyes warning her to stop moving. Krile moved over to her side, lifting up a branch staff in her one hand. She began several complex enchantments, while G’raha assisted her. 

Ejika crossed his arms. “I’m just going to study more on this dissertation” He shook his head, pulling out a couple of papers. “Don’t call on me unless it’s of dire importance.”

The Lalafell administering to Azlyn looked darkly over her shoulder to Ejika. “If you’re not going to help, go sit in the pub.”

He huffed but didn’t argue. They all knew not to argue with her when she was like this. The scrapping of the chair alerted them of his exit out the room. When the door closed behind him, G’raha shook his head. 

The girl felt a terrible wracking pain in her chest, as she doubled over to cough. She had to admit, G’raha’s reaction speed was immediate. He was pressing his hand against her forehead as his heterochronic eyes wandered over her physique.

“S-sorry.” She muttered, she felt her tail curl on the side of her at the thought of bothering them. He merely sighed, grabbing the sides of her face to do the same thing Krile had done before. He flipped his aetheric goggles over his eyes as he began to examine.

“Ugh—Krile was right. What did you do.”

“I used—”

He stopped her. “It was a rhetorical question Azlyn. I know what you did.” G’raha shook his head. The frustration was evident in his face.

Krile turned back to her, her brown eyes narrowed onto her purple and red ones. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just drag you back to the Isle of Val.” 

Azlyn grimaced. “I wasn’t thinking—but this won’t happen again. I promise.”

The room went silent, before she sighed. G’raha shook his head, dropping the cloth back into the basin. Krile shook her head. “If we stabilize the connection, you might be able to use magicks as you normally do. However you’ll probably find yourself weaker than before.” 

She was surprised by this. “What do you mean by weaker?” 

Krile looked at her and then over to G’raha. They both sighed. Krile explained. “Essentially we will be placing more of your active aetherial energy that keeps up healthy and able, and filling in the voids that your passive aetherial energy is missing. You’ll be able to cast magicks and not be as affected by the Echo, but the cost means that you’ll get sicker more often—or at least that’s what we think will happen. We’re not one hundred percent sure. The question is, will you be willing to do this?”

G’raha did not look happy, as the brow furrowed in worry. “It’s up to you. Your journey will only get tougher in either event, but this way at least you’ll be able to continue as you are. You’ll just need to pace yourself.” 

Azlyn looked to them both. “What do I have to do?”

Krile motioned to her and the bed. “You? Nothing. G’raha and I will be doing a majority of the work. It’s like surgery except with aether and your lifeblood than with your actual veins and blood vessels.” 

G’raha pulled out his book, looking a bit worried. “This is going to be a long process, you’re probably going to have to lay on the bed.”

Krile nodded. “Might be painful as well. But small price to pay for what is in store for the future. Can you do this?” 

Azlyn frowned, but nodded all the same. Her head still felt feverish. Krile held her hand starting to perform a few enchantments, her books spread out around her. G’raha started in his own murmurings, getting lost in the text. 

Before she realized it she felt a strange wave of energy ripple over and around her, as if the aether was bending and forming. She could feel it in her head to her neck, working its way into her back and shoulder. It was an incredibly slow process. The daylight that shone outside must have started to dim down as Krile and G’raha took breaks between sessions. Azlyn could have sworn she was feeling better, but there were other times that felt like she was burning or in bouts of pain in her entire body. It shifted every so often, and when she tensed and writhed, she noticed them change the formulaes they were using and the magicks to something different. This had begun the long and agonizing stabling process.

Krile rolled her shoulder as she prepared to stop for the time being. “That’s enough for now—she needs some food like we do.” She walked over to the table where all of the bags they purchased stuff in still stayed. “I’m going to see if there’s a kitchen I can borrow to prepare something light for us.” She looked over to G’raha who had sat in the chair beside Azlyn. Azlyn rolled her head to the side, her face red from her fever. “I’ll be back.” 

“Mmm-kay.” Azlyn mumbled, feeling warmer. Her breathing went a bit heavier as she could feel her body was exhausted. This was probably what it meant when they were shifting her aether around. 

G’raha reached over to the cloth once more, dabbing it on her face to help cool her. She didn’t even have the strength to fight it. Krile exited the room with a bag of food supplies, the door closing behind her. Azlyn tried to roll, but her energy was quite spent. All she could muster was a twitch in her arms. 

The male tended to her, trying to keep her fever down as best he could. 

Azlyn mumbled. “Warrior—of light—”

G’raha scrunched his heterocronic eyes at her. “What?”

“I always wondered why I felt—so lost back home. Journeying out here—helping people—I feel whole.” She was saying things without context, even she knew that, but it didn’t change the fact she wanted to say it. “I don’t think I can just give up this life. I can’t.” 

G’raha just rubbed her face with the cloth. “I’m not asking you to do that. Were you worried we’d take you home?” 

Azlyn tried to nod her head.

He sighed. “We wouldn’t do that. We know how much you enjoy this kind of life. I know how much you enjoy it. Whenever I read your letters, or when you return home for the holidays—from your tales and experiences you tell to the children. I know this is what you were meant to do. However.” He reached out to cup her cheek. He lowered his head over hers. His forehead leaning up against hers. “I still worry about you. We worry about you.”

“I’m sorry.” She murmured. 

G’raha closed his eyes. “We still have a promise to fulfill. We’re supposed to journey together, remember?” 

She smiled. “Yes. We can go see Silverlake near Mor Dhona. Or watch the sunset near Summerford Farms.” 

He pulled himself away from her, and just held out his hand to hers. “Granted I’m really mad at you still.” 

Azlyn frowned, “Don’t be mad—I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t tell me anything about your book getting destroyed by an Auroch, or how you got yourself involved with the Ascian who summoned not only a golem, but a voidsent creature to kill you. I was really, really mad at you.” He gripped his hand on hers, but he didn’t stop there. “Krile told us on our way here that you were blessed by the same power she has—but she didn’t anticipate you becoming a vessel for the Mothercrystal herself. I guess I was shocked. Did you not trust me enough to tell me?” 

Azlyn opened her eyes, looking to him with concern. “N-no, it wasn’t like that at all. I just didn’t know what it all meant. Even now I still don’t know.” She tried to pick herself up but a firm pressure kept her down. “Please believe me.” 

She felt him grip her hand tightly within his own hands. He lifted her hand up to his face, and closed his eyes. “I believe you. When you’re better again, we’ll have to plan something fun. Archon Baldesion gave us a bit of time when he heard you fell ill due to the Echo’s visions.” 

Azlyn smiled, “Something fun. That sounds like a plan.” She chuckled, feeling her hand being placed back down by her side. The door opened to the room, revealing Krile and Ejika coming back in. Krile was holding a platter of sandwiches and Ejika carried a pot of soup.

“I hope you have an appetite, because we have soup and sandwiches.” Krile prepared four separate plates, cutting up one of the sandwiches into tiny bite sized squares. Ejika poured the soup into some bowls, and set three at the table. 

G’raha helped Azlyn up from lying down, easing her up and sat on the bed beside her. He let her lean against him as Krile brought over one plate. “It’s not like she can’t eat solids, but we’ll keep it small portions.” She replied, handing the plate over to G’raha. He nodded, lifting a small piece of sandwich to Azlyn. 

“Eat.” 

Upon command she just bit. She chewed slowly, barely tasting the tomato pesto and leafy greens. G’raha assisted her with eating, until she was all done with the food. Ejika pointed to the food with a smile. “I’m glad for good food. It’s nice to sit down after a long day of work.” 

G’raha raised his eyebrow from his position, Azlyn was bobbing her head on his shoulder. “What work? You read all day.” 

He shrugged. 

Krile replied. “Once we’re finished eating, we can continue with the treatment. Ejika can write down the entire report for Archon Baldesion.” 

At this the Lalafell paled. “But—but I wasn’t even here to watch the procedure!”

G’raha smirked. “Too bad—you’ll have to figure it out fast.” 

They watched him in the middle of dinner blanche, and immediately turn to Azlyn. “Immediately give me all of your symptoms and how it felt during the procedure!”

Azlyn blinked rapidly. “Uh—tingly?” 

G’raha shook his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Tingly is an interesting descriptive for stabilizing aether in a mortal body.” 

Ejika went right to work, jotting down every detail he could—from whatever was said at dinner to the remainder of the night’s procedure. It was set up in a similar way, where Krile and G’raha would trade off using different sets of magicks. Sometimes it would be fine, other times it’d feel like she was in bouts of pain. Finally, all at once, she felt something deep within herself snap back into place, like a bone being put back into place after it’s been dislocated. And it hurt. 

“I just finished reading the dissertation on the aetherical damages done to Eorzea during previous calamities, and I must sa—.” Ejika talked over the two of them working, but stopped when Azlyn doubled over in pain. She reached out to the first thing she could find, which happened to be G’raha and the blanket, and curled into a ball. 

Krile wiped a bit of sweat on her forehead. She reached over to examine Azlyn’s hands, neck, and face before nodding. “Ejika open the window—we’re done.” 

G’raha cradled the Au Ra in his arms, looking down as she was crying in pain. He could tell from Krile’s assessment that it was a successful procedure. Albeit really painful. Rubbing her back as gently as he could, he did his best to soothe her. 

Ejika opened the window, the night’s breeze flowing in. The smell of sea salt on the air as it filled the room. 

Krile started to clean up around the room. “You should feel a bit better in the morning. You’re on the mend, as some would say.”

Azlyn felt herself get wrapped in the blankets and rocked by her friend. “Thank you.” She murmured, leaning into her friend. She wanted to reach out to Krile, but her arms were wrapped up. 

“Get better, that’s all the thanks we need.” Krile replied, “And on that note, I’m going to bed.” 

Ejika went out from the room, presumably to a room he got for his own comfort. Krile made sure Azlyn was lying down and resting before retiring to her own room. She looked to G’raha. “Are you staying here or going to rest as well?” 

He frowned, placing a wet clothe on her forehead. “I’ll stay here. Her fever needs to break before she should be left alone.” 

Azlyn mumbled in her half-awake state. “I’m fine—just in pain.” 

G’raha ignored her. “More reason to stay. I’m used to staying up overnight. We’ll see you in the morning Krile.” 

Krile nodded, “Don’t overdo it. Azlyn, get some sleep. See you in the morning.” 

The Miqo’te tended to her once again, while Azlyn sighed. “I’m fine—really.” 

“Nope.” 

“But—“

“No buts.” He shot her down, and rapped her on the forehead. “Go to sleep.” 

She closed her eyes, hoping that with the morning everything would go back to normal. One where she could move and be agile, where she can run her errands and travel around without worrying anyone.