Aengus's palms were bleeding.
The sky of Ala Mhigo, known for its wide-open display of glimmering stars, was coated in a sickly grey. The wailing and shouts of command rang in his ears, the cannons having halted moments before. Death and death and death. He had seen the Dragonsong War. He had been a wanted man in his homeland. Yet cradling a lurching head in his arms, he had never felt so scared.

It took every muscle in his body not to dry heave on the sands. The Elezen had to force his head down, face his fears. Do the right thing, even when it's hard. Even when you'll regret it. His eyes met half-lidded pale purple and the tears threatened his ducts. He was certain it was the ash. There was nothing to cry about. Everything was going to be fine. He just had to wait for Krile to--

"Aengus. Listen."
"No. I don't want to hear it."
"Shut the He--"

Franky turned her head to cough red across the sand. Aengus's brows shot up, instantly forgetting his unease and moving his arm to wipe the Roegadyn's face with his dingy sleeve. He'd seen her look worse, was what he convinced himself. Out of the four of them, she was always the most eager to get her hands dirty for the sake of another. He recalled the time she'd wrestled an eft to rescue a child's coeurl. She'd been victorious, as always, but they'd had to take her out back and scrub her down like a grumpy bear.

"Listen." She started again, hands pressed hard against her stomach. Aengus had already tightly tied his sash around the wound, but he was no mage. He desperately prayed that Margot was on her way with Krile.

"I don't think I'm going to make this one." She stared up at him, twisted body coming to a still. Aengus only held her head tighter, his hands small in comparison to her strong face. He scoffed.

"That's stupid. You're being stupid. You're thrice the warrior I am. You've survived worse injuries, Franky." Please laugh. Please, please, please laugh. He'd never seen her this serious and it terrified him. Franky "Cheezy" wasn't supposed to frown. She was everyone's hero, from the littlest coeurl to the most shaken Elezen.

Franky reached a messy hand to her face, prying off Aengus's fingers and stitching them between her own. Aengus desperately wanted to pull away. They were sickeningly warm and slick.

"Tell Marge she can have my room. She always whined about it, the fuzzy little shit. My clothes too, if they even fit." Franky joked with no smile. "Ivan can have my staff. He mentioned wanting to pick up the dark arts. If he gets even more insufferable I won't be there to see it anyway. Damn know-it-all." Her grip on his hand grew tighter, and he felt her heartbeat through her skin.

"And you, Aengus Prionne," she sighed lowly, "get my last words. Though I would've much rather it be Urianger." The Elezen couldn't help but chuckle, leaning in closer to get a better look at her face. "You couldn't mean that."

"You're right, I don't." She admitted. Aengus hadn't expected her to. "I'm glad it's you. Little Fussy Gussy. That's what we called you when we were still training to be Scions, you know. You didn't even know how to peel a popoto at age twenty. A real fixer-upper." She gazed up past his head to the dreary skies.

"...But you did have something we didn't. I was kind of envious, to be truthful." Franky paused to cough once more. "Hope, Aengus. Even after all this time. Blind, naive, un-bittered hope. I love you for it."

Aengus couldn't help himself. He rubbed his sleeve against his eyes frantically, trying to hide his shattering expression. This was Franky "Cheezy" Beragybal. She would never be jealous of some prissy wannabe hero in stupid pointy shoes. She'd grown up alone in the uncaring alleys of Ul'dah, snatching spare change just to get by. She'd started from the bottom of the thaumaturge guild running errands until given the chance to dazzle the mages with her unfiltered emotional power. She'd never needed anyone, and now she was desperately clinging to his hand tight enough to shatter the Elezen's frail bones.

No-one was coming.

Anastasius de Lageary was born a miracle. Ser Julien de Lageary, a noble of House Durendaire and overseer of the defense of Dragonhead's observatorium, had finally produced an heir. A newborn son was cause for celebration in Ishgardian tradition, with especially high expectations held for the child of one of Dragonhead's most skilled commanders against dragonkind. The boy was to be raised in the highest standard suited to his rank, schooled in politics and etiquette throughout the day, and trained in the art of the lance by the light of the setting sun. Ser Julian was a stern and unforgiving teacher, claiming that "the dragons will show you no pity, thus nor shall I." Anastasius grew to wield the lance well enough, but only after the help of a few lashes. The boy lived this way until adolescence, each night kneeling on the floor and praying to Halone that by the next sun's rise he might not open his eyes again.

He did have little comforts, however. Anastasius had two older sisters, whom he was only allowed to see on rare weekends and holidays. No matter what his family wanted him to think, Felicity, the eldest, was his true role model. She was the darling of the courting scene, known to have the voice of an angel and the most nimble feet to ever grace Ishgard's ballrooms. His other sister, Rosette, was rather skilled on the lute and taught Anastasius the folksongs and ballads she picked up from days wandering the Jeweled Crozier or sneaking into taverns to listen to the bards. The boy's heart panged with envy at his sisters' freedoms, but he never once wished for either of them to take his place.

Alongside his beloved dancing and music lessons from his sisters, Anastasius harbored one secret all to himself. At around age 14, he carefully concocted a route that allowed him to slip out of their Ishgardian home unnoticed in the dead of night. Not the kind to hunt for mischief, he only ever used these excursions to visit the outskirts of the city. From his favorite perch on a wall by the airship landing, he could watch the rolling expanse of the Sea of Clouds tumble by against the starry sky. And one day, by the grace of that sky, he made a friend.

After a month or so of watching the stars every other night, Anastasius began to feel watched. Not in the way guards sent by his father would, luckily. His suspicions were later confirmed by a single sesame cookie carefully wrapped in a handkerchief, left on his usual perch. The stranger had made the first move, or so he could only assume. Anastasius was delighted, having been given a new reason to wake in the morn. Before his next jaunt, he made sure to nab a sweet popoto roll from the kitchens and an extra kerchief.

This game continued for the next week, the desserts slowly becoming larger and more extravagant as the nights passed (at one point, half a holiday cake sat on the wall). Anastasius despised practicing for battle, but sillier competitions were another story. Their playful rivalry came to a climax when the young Elezen managed to sneak out early enough to catch his equal. He was surprised to spot a young lad no older than he, waif-like with long, velvety black locks. He'd never seen a boy so pretty, and when the stranger turned to gaze upon him with those lonely blue eyes that would make the skies weep in jealousy, Anastasius wanted nothing more than to stand by his side forever.

That night, with the lights of the heavens twinking their blessings, the two boys broke bread. Pumpkin bread, to be precise. It was the happiest moment Anastasius would experience for many a year more. The other was of low status, but with big dreams. He wanted to raise through the ranks to become a proper knight, proving his worth to his family and the entire city. When he mentioned Ser Julien's outspoken distaste for the people of the Brume, Anastasius held his tongue. What reason did he have to defend a man who had brought him only strife? He only smiled silently, entranced by the boy's spritely chattering and gesturing. Eventually the high-born, after being famously soft-spoken and passive since childhood, opened up. He shared tales from his training in the snowy highlands to the dress-up games he'd play with Felicity in her flouncy ball gowns. It was a great relief to be able to talk to someone who he knew would not judge him nor report anything back to his family. For a brand new reason, Anastasius dreaded the sun's arrival.

To this day he wonders about that boy, even after years of traveling and concocting a new identity. He never caught his name. The next morning he was given a stern talking-to by the guards who had noticed him sneak out early, and for the rest of his remaining years in Ishgard his door was under heavy surveillance.
On his worst nights in battlefield tents, they're the sorts of memories he uses to stay grounded. Occasionally he sees that raven hair in dreams, a small hand pressing the folded handkerchief into the grown Warrior of Light's trembling palm, rough from years of callusing and scarring.
Every time, Aengus wakes up with a sweet taste on his lips.

The Shroud always swelled with palpable energy, he had determined long ago.
Not just the whims of the elementals. It was something else in the trees, in the stones. Like every little detail had been meticulously placed to guide, soon birthing a second realm and giving the dirt new purpose.

+++

The embers of a small campfire in the North Shroud were beginning to sigh and smoke, preparing for a long rest after a chilly evening. The sky had been overcast for what felt like moons, draping the woodlands in a similarly sleepy haze. The small encampment sat on one of the North's landmark cliffs, giving a clear view o'er the realm toward Coerthas. Two cloaked forms, one shining ember.

One of the dark figures stood from their tree-stoop seat with the quiet grunt of a man whose body had carried many a battle and many a body. He gently began to prod the remains of the fire with a piece of their wood stock, giving up when no warmth came forth. He turned to his companion, brow stern but voice surprisingly tender.

"You needn't wait up for me. You've done work enough for the day and I won't stand for you to give up any wink of rest." His words commanded, but a twinkle could be caught in his eye.

"Like hell! You're in no position to say anything. You've done the most of us!" A voice across the fire argued, waving a gloved hand before their hooded face to escape the smoke and ash.

"Twitch, I appreciate your sympathy, but I have faced much worse than a couple of efts and you will need to face worse soon enough. You take me for elder than I am. Completely unrelated," The man paused before a sly grin took to his face and his hand went to his pack, whipping a small hunk of bread across the fire in the other's direction, "think fast."

His opposite reacted with a slight delay, caught off-guard and fumbling to catch the food projectile. Their hood fell back in the process, revealing a young but formidable-looking Viera girl. She clutched her prize in her hands, shooting a glare at her older-looking companion.

"Ivan, you make me glad there are no men in my homeland." She grumbled, tentatively looking up to check that the Hyur wasn't looking before turning away to scoff down the bread. Ivan opened his mouth to make a quick remark, but instead chose to hold his tongue with a soft smile.

A loud rustling from the distant trees caused both figures to swiftly stand, hands hovering over their respective weaponry. The Viera's ears twitched, as if tuning in to the forest itself's movements. The rustling continued, growing louder until infrequent footsteps could be heard. At last, a hand pushed through the thick brush, followed by loud panting and the rest of a very tired-looking Elezen man.
He collapsed on the ground by the dying fire, continuing to pant heavily.

"Aengus, are you--" The Viera began, quickly cut off by the Elezen's slightly cracked voice.

"Fine? Yes. Yes, I am--" He paused to flip over on the dirt, now face-up to stare at the overcast sky with a deep breath. "fine. I'll have you know that foraging is much harder in the dark, and that, per se, grabbing a kedtrap instead of an edible root is really quite possible." Despite being obviously tuckered out from his endeavors, the young man still made an (almost laughable) attempt to sound proper.
"But that is beside the point." He craned his head to look at the fire. "I see that... not much progress was made on the heat?"

Ivan laughed, obviously bemused by the Elezen's dramatics. "It can be done without. Besides, is it really camping if one is not forced to huddle with his companions for warmth in the unyielding Coerthan night?"

"Do not get me wrong, I... like you both very much, but that will be unnecessary." Aengus laughed as well, but far more nervously.
Twitch, in turn, prodded a finger in Ivan's direction. "And don't say that as if you've done it before!"
Ivan only continued to laugh.

With a small sigh, Twitch lowered herself to the ground next to Aengus. She turned her head to look at him, hair a (purposeful) mess and brow slightly furrowed with concern, whispering, "I appreciate your efforts, you damned fussy Gussy, but try to be more careful." Her worried look soon was replaced with comedic disgust. "Also, you left me stuck with this coot for an hour and didn't even come back with a snack. You owe me!"

Aengus only smiled, crossing his legs and watching the sky. A peephole in the murk had formed, gifting a glance at the stars beyond. He'd always had a fondness for the stars. Constellations were one of the few things he could ever pay attention to during lessons. The stories were what ensnared his imagination, as well as the hope of a realm beyond. Ivan sat down on his other side, patting his upper arm with a knowing expression. He, too, looked up.

And from the clifftop overlooking valleys yet unclimbed, the battles yet to be won, the friends yet unburied, and the bridge uncrossed, the trio looked heavensward.

The egg yolk sun peeks over the horizon, lighting the treetops with an orange morning glow. The forest is still nearly silent, the birds and other fauna still tucked away or resting under the warming sun. The woods' floor is dark and cold from the night, still lying in wait for the later day's hotter rays.
The tree-enclosed village begins to awaken with the morning sun, but one youngling has already left.

Ginger footsteps across dark and moist soil, the soft click-crunch of pine needles sighing on the forest floor. Chipmunks and robins don't scurry away, already aware that the tawny figure is one of them.
The being steps into a trickling river far from the village, the cold currents tickling their legs as they smile down. The sun is reflecting on the surface as it begins to slowly rise, the rest of the woods still dark and damp and sleeping.

The child sits down in the stream, playing with the water as it dances around their fingers. Small fish dart around warily. The cattails and river weeds are motionless, basking in the beginning of light.
The child looks over the horizon, past the twisting black tangle of morning trees on high. Far, far away there are unfamiliar shapes: sharp, square edges on tall, protruding structures. Even the sun dares not bring them to light.

They stare, unmoving, and the river dances in cool ribbons around them. The sun smiles down on their back. The fish zip around at their sides. The trees bend and twist like gentle arms.
But still they are curious. For as strange and beautiful as they think their forest home is,
humans would always be more dangerous and more intriguing.
They did not know it yet, but this curiosity would lead to the loves of their life
and to their downfalls.

Kai's lips are really soft. Like, the guy probably uses some kind of product. It's crazy. And they taste like orange sometimes. That was nice. And you know how fingers intertwine and fit together perfectly? Lips do that too. It's weird. Ben felt weird for thinking about it.

Plus Kai had this really sweet habit of kissing Ben before he ran off to his modeling job. Not even a "good morning", just a kiss and run. The entire day Ben would feel loved.

Kai was really good at that, making people feel loved. Making them feel like they were worthwhile. He'd talk to anyone, compliment them, cheer them on. The merman was hard to hate, but he was so easy to love.

And for Ben, it didn't matter how easy it was. He'd do it even if it were difficult. He'd do anything to give back the beautiful man all of the love he gave. Double that, even. Ben would give Kai every kiss in the world if it helped him to realize how wonderful he truly was.

"Hey, Orion?" Plastic eyelids flitted, the shocking blue irises they hid looking to the side. Two robots lay on the cold lab floor side-by-side, fake hair splayed out like sunbeams and jointed fingers on the ground. No scientists to stop them. Just gentle beeping of machinery among the quiet of afternoon.

"Yes, Gold?" The other responds, shifting his head to look at his opposite. Gold couldn't help but note the slight warmth in Orion's eyes.
A warmth he himself didn't possess. Not anymore.

"We're... friends. Right?" The golden-crowned android asked, brows furrowed. He sounded genuinely perplexed.
"Yeah. What of it?" Orion replied, frowning slightly. What a straightforward question. Well, that was to be expected from Gold.
Gold looked back up at the ceiling. His confused expression melted away.
"I... see."
"Why, is that a problem?"
"Negative. It's the opposite." His voice held little emotion. He always sounded so distant. So... sad. Even when saying happy things.

Without asking, the somber robot carefully took Orion's hand, murmuring a soft word.
"Sorry."
Orion was taken aback. "Why are you sorry?"
He felt as if he were talking to a child. Gently.

"I've never had a 'friend'. I'm going to have to change up my programs a bit. The only options I have are 'helper', 'father', or 'enemy'. I'm sure I can install 'friendship'." Gold's lips showed the slightest trace of a smile. Orion couldn't tell if that had been a joke or serious, but he smiled along anyway.

They were both broken souls, taking baby steps in new shoes. New feet. New vessels.
Yet they were willing to try, and together that was enough to do anything.

I've been listening to the same song for years now.

I'll never forget the day we fell. It was like we were children. We didn't follow the rules, so we got kicked out of the game. Tossed off the merry-go-round and into the dirt.
There is nobody to kiss my wounds. There is nobody to bandage my scrapes.

I can't complain. Mars has it worse.
He actually liked it up there. It was easier, more predictable. Angels admired him, trusted him... but some scorned him. He was only doing his job, and now he could never go home. I ruined his wings. I poured the salt in his gashes.

Every day here is the same, just like before. It's not much of a hell if you've already been through it. We're bound here by our responsibilities: by our wings.
Mars can't fly, but he wants to.
I can fly, but I don't want to. I would give him my back in an instant, but I can't.
Maybe my guilt is the real hell.

I will not go back. I've heard what Jasper says. The Heavens are trembling. The angels march on light feet. They hunger for justice. They hunger for the blood of my wounds.
Yet the fruit of my bondage will be mine. I know not what I want, but they will not take me.

I've been listening to the same song for years now,
but it's better than death's silence.

Cerulean. Sea. Oceanic. Scenic. Aquamarine. Crystal. Sapphire. Sky. Sea glass. 

You could drown in them.
Deep pools of salty blue, tide pools warmed on the shore and brimming with new life.

You could fly in them. 
Open air, growing wide and full of curiosity, the sun's light reflecting on a shining cloud glaze. 

You could find love in them.
A reflection, affection, like glimmering mirrors. Melted silver. You could see yourself in them, see yourself in ways you could never imagine on your own. He sees people as who they could be.

Kai's eyes are portals to better places. Doors to where he wants to be. Freedom in the form of big navy blue space, expansive and unexplored blue waters. 
Life in a shade of blue.

Blue veins. Blue lips.
Beautiful blue eyes.

idek what this is but it isn't the hans fic lol maybe next time

Ben stared at the ceiling, a worried look plastered on his face. He'd been having some strange thoughts recently. More sad than strange, honestly. 
Kai would be worried. That's why Ben didn't want to share. He'd do anything to keep the bad things of the world away from his best friend. His everything. 

The ceiling stared back down. Sometimes Ben felt like he was being crushed by his own room. Like the building was closing in on him. He was born for open skies, not a big, paper-covered cement box. 
Did Kai ever feel this way? Did he wish he was in the sea, in his element again? Was the human world ever more of a hell and less of a paradise for him?

Ben rolled over on his bed, burying his face in a pillow. Was there a way to stop thinking? He didn't want Kai to miss home. Not because it hurt Kai, but because Ben was selfish. He was selfish and greedy and he wanted Kai to be his forever. For him to be by his side and literally pull his hand through life, through the fun experiences and devastating losses. 

It was hard to breathe with the pillow pressed to his face. Permanent loss of breath... death. That was how one stops thinking. Stops suffering. Stops loving. True freedom.
Flipping over again and moving the pillow to hug it, Ben continued to ponder.

Being the... creature he was, how long would he live? 
Would Kai leave first?
Would one of them be stuck alone in this hell called the human world? 

Ben didn't think he could stand that. Don't some animals die of loneliness? Did that include himself? 

Seeing Kai in a dream-like state, radiant but dull. Those glowing blue eyes shut for good, him all dressed in white, surrounded by flowers and unbrea-- ... no. No. Ben refused to think about that.

Quickly pushing off the covers, Ben rushed to the window and loudly threw open the curtains, breathing heavily. The peachy morning was just beginning to melt away the murky blue-black of the night. The stars were just barely visible. Suddenly, the future didn't matter so much. Ben felt the muscles in his face he didn't know were clenched soften. His hands fell to his sides, missing a certain pair of matching ones. He could see the sky. He'd never be trapped, not as long as the sky was there. 

After all, what was more free and dazzling than a future with the one you love? Not even the glittering sky compared. They would survive, together. And when the time did come when one of them left the other behind, all they would need to do is look to the blue abyss.

Ben didn't think he could forget the cerulean sky in Kai's eyes even if he tried. 

Why.
I'm easily hurt but didn't know I could cry this hard. I've breathed in fire but didn't know my lungs could burn this much. I didn't know a lot of things. Where is your breath? Where is the gentle rise and fall of your chest? Can I give you mine?

I didn't know this would be so difficult. That's a lie. I knew it would be hard. This is war. War kills people, Kai.
We aren't people, though. Are we? Are we better? Are we worse?
Are we worthless? Are we cursed? You weren't. Stars can't be cursed.

I thought we had a chance, Kai. When we held hands before the battle and you told me that everything was okay and that I didn't need to cry and that we were stronger together and that we could win I believed you. 
You broke that promise, Kai. It's the first time you ever have.

I'm not supposed to be holding you like this. I'm not supposed to be carrying you home. I'm not supposed to have to scream. I'm not supposed to see you leave first. WHY DID YOU LEAVE FIRST? 








I can't do this.









You're so cold, Kai. I'm not used to it.





I can't do this. 

I didn't know a lot of things. 
You're so cold. Your hands. Your face. 
Your heart isn't beating, Kai.

I don't know if mine is, either.