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I See Myself in You

There’s a bit of a history to this one. Back when the Endwalker expansion for Final Fantasy XIV was released in December of 2021, I threw myself wholly into it. For months, I would log in almost daily, to complete any number of side activities. Specifically, I remember being particularly enamored with the Healer Role Quest. During one of my writing binges in May of 2022, I used it as inspiration to write this, since Fordola has much in common with my character, as per the backstory I’ve constructed for him.

And while it tooled with it every now in then, the piece sat in my files collecting dust for nearly two years. There was nothing wrong with the script, but I didn’t have a good piece to illustrate it. I had artists in mind for it, but my proposals were either rejected or I had missed my window. Then, Seiryuuden opened up, and by some miracle she accepted my proposal for a commission. At last, I had artwork that could illustrate this short story I had been holding onto for years. Even better, as one might expect from seeing her portfolio, it turned out excellent.

Thus, with no other writing coming out in October of 2024, there was nothing left to do put finally make this public.

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“I don’t need ‘yer pity. And I don’t need ‘yer healin’.”

Even as the words left her mouth, she clutched the open wound in her shoulder, staunching the bleeding with an iron grip. As a trained soldier, she felt his presence approaching before she could see him from behind the rock she was using to conceal herself. Fordola had hoped that wandering all the way out in the Gyr Abanian desert would be enough to get him to look the other way for once, but she should have known better in hindsight.

He walked forward, flanked from both sides by the floating technological wings held aloft purely by his own aether, that symbolized his latest profession. Appropriate for the sweltering clime, his catlike body was garbed in breathable fabrics, small patches of fur exposed on his arms and lower legs.

“Then you won’t object to a quick check-up.”

Always the goody-two-shoes, ever eager to inconvenience himself to fetch orphans trapped in wells, rescue cats from trees, or whatever drivel “heroes” fill their time with. Briefly, she wondered whether the Hrothgar lumped her in with the rest of the charity cases before the stinging of her shoulder compelled her to think better of it.

Kneeling down next to her, his thoughts compelled the wings to action, forming a matrix around his would-be patient. For her part, Fordola could only grunt in frustration, looking down to avoid making eye contact.

“Fine. Be quick about it!”

Before she could even blink, he was already at work, using the matrix as a conduit to efficiently conduct his aether, accelerating her healing and closing the wound on her shoulder. After inspecting his handiwork, he gave her a thumbs up and offered his hand to her. After a few experimental rotations, she swatted his hand away before picking herself up onto her feet. In turn, he rose, using a flick of his wrist to recall the floating marvels to their rightful place on his back.

“Good as new… physically at least. How are you holding up otherwise?”

“What do you care!?”

Her body now mended, she snapped, unable to tolerate any further transgressions against her pride. Where most would react with aggression in kind, Rabrandt, now in his mid-30s, instead paused for a moment, closing his eyes and placing his hand upon his chin. When he was finally ready to respond, he made direct eye contact.

“A fair question, I suppose. It’s been so long that there’s no harm in telling you.”

She leaned forward, suddenly curious. Out of all the reactions she hoped for and expected from the famed Warrior of Light, this was not one of them. The shock lent authority to his voice as he continued.

“If things had gone different for me, I could have easily become you, and vice-versa.”

Fordola couldn’t imagine a series of words that could extinguish her curiosity as effortlessly as that particular combination did. The scoff left her lips before her mind could process her growing disgust.

“Don’t bother with the speech. I’ve heard’em all before. Drivel the lot of them.”

The Hrothgar could only smile as he shook his head. “I’m sure it sounds that way, but I mean it. We have much more in common than you think we do.”

“Bollocks. What else could we have in common besides the blasted Echo?”

Once more, Rabrandt stopped to consider his words before he responded. “Well, in another life, I was commander of my own unit in the Garlean military. Back then, I was Rabrandt quo Razorclaw.”

Incensed, the Ala Mhigan raised her voice, pointing an accusatory finger at her conversation partner. “You? Of all people? Fightin’ for Garlemald? You honestly expect me to believe that!?”

Undaunted by the outburst, Rabrandt continued, “As insane as it may sound, it’s the truth. I was born the scion of a poor fishing family on the fringes of Bozja, unaware of my ignorance until the occupation brought a standardized curriculum to all of us.”

Fordola’s head was swimming, unsure if she could trust her lying ears. “And you enlisted out of gratitude?”

The Warrior of Light smirked at that comment, once more shaking his head. “Nothing so lofty. I wanted to escape from my humble origins and explore the world. Enlisting seemed like the easiest way and some of my friends and family went with me. We became our own unit. Sound familiar?”

Realizing now where this was going, Fordola lowered her gaze, staring a burning hole into her boot. “So what. Are you about to tell me that your merry band’re war criminals too?”

He took a deep breath. “No. Fate had other plans.”

Looking back up with a quizzical expression, she asked, “What happened?”

He hadn’t realized decades-old emotions had begun to take him once more when he blurted out, “Bozja happened!” The shock on her face made him realize his error. Inhaling and exhaling, the Hrothgar Sage regained his composure. “When Bozja was destroyed, I lost my parents and most of the family. The only ones who didn’t perish were the ones who enlisted with me. We were all out on campaign.” He looked away, thinking back to those bygone days.

“And then what?”

“We ran. I was the commander, but together we deserted our post: A common tale among my people. As wanted men and women, the Coeurl Corp went our separate ways once we reached Thavnair. Eventually, I heard rumors of good work to be found for mercenaries in Eorzea, and the rest is history.”

Hearing the name of the unit in question, old memories were pried loose in Fordola’s head. Old rumor and hearsay from her time serving Garlemald returning unbidden. “The Coeurl Corp were caught and court-martialed for their desertion.”

“That’s the official story, yes. Unofficially, we were hounded until it was too dangerous to pursue us further. We weren’t court-martialed. We were written off as a loss, alongside our home and the people we cared about.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Nor would I expect you to. Even if you had, you would have been too young to do anything about it. And that leads me to the crucial difference between us.”

“Oh?”

“You lost your family to the burning malice of the people around you, and it set you down a dark path from which few ever find their way off. I lost mine to the cold indifference of the system I served, and it broke my desire to perpetuate it any longer.”

Gone was the frustration. At the words of the Sage, she could only hang her head down without remark.

“When I look at you, I can’t help but wonder. If Project Meteor was researched here. If that explosion destroyed Ala Mhigo instead of Bozja, could the roles between us have been reversed?”

“Bollocks and you know it.”

“I don’t. I honestly don’t. And neither do you. But I do know that if the roles truly were reversed, I would hope that someone would do for me what I’m doing for you.” Just as before, he held his hand out to the now-recovered soldier.

And this time, she took his hand, the harsh visage unable to change despite her internal struggle.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

He smiled, more genuinely than he had earlier.

“That’ll have to do.”