Chapter Text
The Crystarium was abuzz with activity and had been for some hours now. The cheerful cries and joyous praise echoing into the darkness as folks from all over Norvrandt celebrated the true return of the night sky. Some folks raised their glasses in toast to those who had brought about its return, others told impassioned stories of their encounters with the Warriors of Darkness, appearing as if out of nowhere to ward off wild beasts, slay ravenous Sin Eaters or simply help them find their way in the world. Minstrels sung their ballads, dancers performed for the gathered crowds and no small amount of alcohol was consumed.
For tonight was a momentous occasion. A turning point in this world. The everlasting light was banished, and the many communities had come together to break in this, the first full night for all of Norvrandt. To commemorate the Crystarium Guard for all their sacrifice defending the land, The Scions for all they had done for this world, the Crystal Exarch for ushering an end to the era of light, and of course, the Warrior of Darkness herself. Any who knew Harkas would be unsurprised to find her in the thick of it, tankard in hand, enjoying the glee on the face of each and every adoring citizen.
But amongst the crowds, there was no Warrior of Darkness, though none seemed concerned. Most merely assumed her to be elsewhere in the party. In fact, she was some distance away, alone in a watch tower on the outskirts of the town. There she sat, her axe and bag lying several fulms behind her, feet hanging off the edge high above the ground, staring out over Lakeland in all its now shadowy beauty. Trees of Ivory with luminescent violet leaves, the glistening lake where Bismarck slept reflecting the twinkling stars above. The hustle and bustle of the festivities were came hushed behind her like the wash of waves on the beach, bathed in the orange glow of now much needed lamps and fires, and as another cheer erupted from the crowd. A sign of a job well done, she thought with a contented sigh, a lazy grin on her face as she swirled her tankard of mead.
The climax of their adventure through the first had given her much to think about, not just about the world, but about her very nature. Of what Emet-Selch and the memory-born Hythlodaeus had said to her. Of Ardbert and their mysterious connection, and what else was to come from the lone remaining Ascian, Elidibus, all of which drew her mind away from simply enjoying the celebrations, as much as she’d liked to. And so she had slunk away to try and find some peace to collect her thoughts.
Or, had tried to, at least.
“So this is where you’ve gotten to, my little sapling!” Came the ever familiar chirp as a wisp of light dancing in the dark, growing until it burst, revealing the amber-leaf covered pixie. “They’re all back there havin’ fun, dancing through the night because of your accomplishments, and where do I find you but out here, on your own in the dark!” Hovering in place, the fey planted both fists against her hips, before leaning forward and wagging a finger at the Warrior. “And you’ve not even gotten your lovely branch a drink, either! Of all the saplings I could’ve chosen, this is what I end up with!” the pixie gave a pout, before eyeing the Roegadyn hopefully, who responded with a shrug and a guilty smile, before reaching back and dragging a small, brown leather pack towards her.
“My apologies, Feo Ul, o’ loveliest of branches” Harkas spoke, playing along with the fey queens ploy as she rattled latches open and rummaged through her possessions, eventually pulling out a small, Lalafellin sized cup. “Allow me to fix this most grievous of disrespects.” She stifled a chuckle, before pouring a small amount from her own tankard into the small cup and offering it to the fey.
“Well, at least you are aware of your misdeeds and are willing to make amends.” The pixie said with a smile. Even though the cup was made for a Lalafell, it was still the size of Feo Ul’s head and required both of her hands to hold, and as she bore the full weight, she sank slightly, before fluttering up again, hovering over to seat themself on Harkas’ shoulder. “Now then, what’re you doing out here by yourself, then? There’s a party over there just for you Y’know!” The pixie grunted quietly as she lifted the and took a sip. After smacking her lips once or twice, the pixie peered into the amber liquid. “So this is what you mortals drink for fun, hm?.” Before taking another sip.
“It’s not the most special stuff, but it’s nice enough.” Harkas nodded, craning her neck to see her companion. “But I guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind, is all.” The warrior took a swig from her tankard and went back to staring out at the landscape. “A lot of things happened and I’m just taking a while to come to terms with some of it. Hasn’t left me in the celebrating mood much, is all.” Harkas spoke forlornly, prompting the pixie to rest the cup upon her thighs, raising a hand to pat the side of the Roegadyns head.
“My poor little sapling. Never forget that your adoring branch is ever by your side should you need me.”
“I appreciate that, but I think this is something I have to figure out myself.” Harkas gave an appreciative smile, before holding her tankard up next to the pixie. “Still, I wouldn’t have gotten here without your help, so here’s to the fairest of pixies, King of the Fey and most brilliant of branches.”. Feo Ul let out a small giggle, before lifting her cup.
“What a sapling I’ve chosen, indeed.” she chattered, as metal tankard met ceramic cup, and both took a long drink, punctuated with a satisfied gasp.
“Now that your journey here is at an end, you could always shed your mortality and take up the mantle of King if you so wished.” The pixie chuckled. “Leave all your troubles behind and stay with me forever?”
“Every opportunity, huh?” Harkas laughed, placing her Tankard down beside her. “Who knows, maybe one day I’ll take you up on that offer. But for now, we’ve got to find a way for everyone to get back home to the source. We’ve a war to fight, at least one more Ascian to fell and gods knows what else is in store.”
“Already planning your next venture so soon, after almost having that beautiful soul of your shattered. Not a thought for yourself.” The fey sounded disappointed until Harkas shook her head.
“I’ve plenty of thoughts for myself. I wouldn’t be doing all this if I didn’t want to, after all.” She said, before rummaging through a pocket on her coat and producing a small, blue crystal with what appeared to be an engraving of a pair of spectacles. “Besides, I’ve got promises I need to keep, too. Can’t let them down now, can I?”. Feo Ul eyed the crystal curiously.
“How curious. I can see the tattered remnants of a soul within that crystal. It almost feels like yours.” Harkas gave a wry smile, before pulling out another crystal, this one red and emblazoned with an axe head. “This one is mine.” She closed her fist around it, before stuffing it back into her pocket. “This one belonged to my sister. She promised to keep fighting when the man she loved gave his life to protect her, and I made that same promise when I came to terms with her passing.” Harkas’ grin faded briefly as she thought back, but she soon shook her head. “Besides, I have people I need to protect too.”
“Ah yes, that mystel sorceress. Y’shtola, I believe?” Harkas turned her full attention to the smirking pixie.
“Well, yes. Her, the twins, my companions back in the source…”
“Don’t play me for a fool, little sapling” the pixie chirped happily. “I know how your heart flutters when you see her, I’ve seen your precious, tender moments you share when the two of you are alone.” Harkas’ cheeks turned flush as the fey teased her.
“Y-you saw all that?” the warrior stammered, pulling away as best she could causing the pixie to wobble from her perch, her wings fluttering to life as she struggled to adjust the cup.
“I saw everything, my adorable little sapling!” Feo Ul chanted with glee. “How it warms my heart to see my chosen find one to share her love! I only hope she doesn’t steal you away from me completely, for what is a branch with no sapling to grow from?” The pixie took one final, large drink from her cup before offering it back to the warrior, who was staring incredulously at the fey.
“I really should’ve known.” Harkas sighed in defeat, taking the cup and placing it beside her tankard. “Just please, don’t go around telling everyone. I don’t want it to become common knowledge. No doubt most of the Scions have their suspicions, if they don’t know outright, that is.”
“Of course, of course. What fun is there in a secret if everyone knows?”
“Well, that’s one way to look at it, I guess.” Harkas grumbled, much to Feo Ul’s entertainment.
Minutes turned to an hour as Branch and Sapling simply enjoyed each other’s company for the first time since their pact was made, stories of long ago were shared, much to Feo Ul’s joy. Tales of Knights and Dragons, of fallen gods, lost friends and scars. Pranks of the past, of the first Titania and mischief yet to be made. It could’ve gone all night, had the sound of boot on metal not caught the Pixies’ ear. Quickly discerning that her chosen hadn’t noticed for herself, the fey used a particularly energetic giggle as cover to take a glance, smiling to herself as she realised who was approaching.
“All these grand adventures you’ve had, my strong little sapling! So many trials! Surely any who you would choose to be your muse must be amazing beyond measure!” Her tone was a teasing one, poking just where she knew Harkas would struggle to deflect.
“Back to this, are we?” The warrior took it cheerfully, giving a chuckle before nodding. “That’s one way to describe her, for sure, though. She’s every bit as determined as I am, she just puts it to better use than I do. History, arcane studies, all sorts of stuff. She’s one of the few I know who can rival Urianger in that regard.” Harkas’ face dropped briefly as she sighed, before her smile returned as the footfalls grew ever closer. “Couple that with both black and white magics and a face that makes my heart skip and you have someone who could take their choice of anyone in the world. In comparison, my biggest strength is a thick skull” punctuating her point by rapping her knuckled against her head “And an outright refusal to stop even when my soul is apparently tearing itself apart.” As the warrior continued on, the footsteps stopped and Feo Uls plan came to fruition. “Why I won her affection I may never know, but as long as I have it I don’t think there’s anything that can stop me. Can’t disappoint her now, can I?” The warrior briefly eyed her now empty tankard before turning to the Pixie, quickly noticing the smug, satisfied smirk Feo Ul now bore.
“So this is where you’ve secluded yourself. To talk romance with the king of fey, no less?” Came a familiar voice, causing Harkas to jerk bolt upright. Quickly giving the fey a glare, Harkas twisted her body round to see her visitor. There, several fulms back, garbed in her grey, fur lined robes, stood Y’shtola, her hair dancing gently in a soft breeze. In each hand she held a wooden bowl, each giving of a faint wisp of steam from whatever they contained. Unable to hold it any longer, Feo Ul burst into laughter, drawing the gaze of both Scions, proclaiming her achievement, that she had tricked the Warrior of Darkness herself, for all to hear. And with a flutter of her wings, she flew a half-loop, fading away into a glimmer of light.
“Damned fey…” Harkas muttered, drawing back the archons’ attention. “How much did you hear?”
“Everything since your companion asked you of me.” The Miqo’te shrugged. “No doubt I only heard aught that she had intended me to. Naught I wasn’t already privy to, however, save for your dreadfully low self-regard.” As she moved to join Harkas, the warrior tried to hide her embarrassment.
“I’m know there’s more to it, but you can’t deny that I’m not the kind of person that others would assume you’re interest in.” As the archon drew closer, Harkas caught a glimpse of something. For the briefest of moments, Y’shtola appeared deeply troubled, but in the blink of an eye she hid it once more, doing her best to maintain her stoic look.
“A strong, brave warrior who regularly places the needs of others over her own?” The archon spoke bluntly. “Who regularly throws herself before countless horrors to save those who cannot fight back? Who risks life, limb and now soul to bring back the stars for all to see?” Again, Harkas could swear she heard just a hint of something behind the Archons words. Concern? Worry? Something was weighing heavy on Y’shtolas mind as she reached the Roegadyns side, lowering herself down, placing one of the bowls on the deck of the tower and taking a spoon with her now free hand. “There are many reasons one would be drawn to you, myself included. That thick skull of yours serves only to block reason, it seems.” Taking a spoonful of what Harkas could now see was a fragrant lamb stew, the Archon lifted it to the warriors lips. “Now, open up.”
“You really don’t need to feed me.” Harkas chuckled, the corner of her mouth curling to a half-smile. “I’ve had plenty of time to res-” her words were immediately cut off with a sharp glare from her partner, who’s hands had begun to tremble. “Y’shtola, are you…What’s wrong?” Her smile had all but faded as she quickly moved a hand to steady the archons, and even with a supportive grasp, Harkas could feel her shaking.
Before her, the warrior could see her partners stern visage crumble. Her face dropped, her ears drooped and guilt flooded her features. There was a soft splatter as the spoon fell from her fingers, stew strewn over the leg of her robe, the bowl left to rest in her lap as the Miqo’te threw both arms around the warriors larger body, pulling her in close and burying her face in her flank. Caught off guard, there was little Harkas could do other than return the gesture, pulling the Archon deeper into the embrace.
“I almost lost you today.” Y’shtola spoke, twisting her head to uncover her mouth. Her voice was weak and shaky in contrast to her earlier sternness as she nestled herself further into the warriors side. “I could do naught but stand and watch as your very aether twisted and warped into something vile. I was utterly powerless to even stall Emet-Selch.” As one of the miqo’tes’ slender hands tightened their grip on Harkas’ coat, her other arm lifted. “And as you wracked and convulsed as the change began to take you, I could do naught to give you succor.” To emphasize her words, a balled fist moved to gently strike the warriors chest, halting a few ilms before contact and turning into a soft caress. “Had it not been for a miracle that you gave only the vaguest details of, you’d have been but another Lightwarden, cursed for all time.” She slowly pulled her face from the Roegadyns side and took a steadying breath. “We all bear the burden of two worlds on our shoulders, I claim that you need not do it alone. Yet the worst burdens are yours alone. I just wish I could do more to care for you in those times, so please…” The archon lifted her head, looking at the warrior with pleading eyes. “Grant me this small benevolence.”
Looking down at her partner, Harkas could feel the guilt welling up inside, but swallowing it down she released the archon with one arm, bringing it to her face and gently stroking her cheek, before planting a small kiss on her forehead. As Y’shtola bore a faint smile, Harkas reached down, taking the spoon just below the head and offering it back to the archon.
“Just don’t let yours go cold, okay?” Harkas gave the most reassuring smile she could as Y’shtola took the handle of the spoon that had been proffered to her, taking up another load of stew. “Or do I have to look after you, too?” She chuckled, met with another stern, yet somehow much softer, glare. The warrior barely managed a playful shrug before she found a spoon ilms away from her lips, waiting intently, which she quickly accepted, opening wide and leaning forward, meeting the now advancing food halfway. As it vanished behind ruby lips, Harkas’ cheeks began to flush, a mix of embarrassment and the full flavour of her meal hitting her. She’d always had a penchant for stew, it’s simple recipe making for ideal camp food, but nothing any of the Warriors of Light ever made could compare to this. She’d barely had time to savour the mouthful before another was awaiting her. Swallowing, she turned to Y’shtola, beaming down at her.
“This is damn good. Have you tried it?” The spoon dropped slightly as the Archon glanced at the second bowl rest next to her.
“I’ve not, no. As you might have guessed, my priorities lay with ensuring your care, not mine own. Though I’ll allow that the fragrance indeed proved tempting as I made my way here. It’s one of the Wandering Stairs specials, if I recall, made especially for those who returned the stars to the skies.”
“Try a bit, then.” Harkas spoke, gesturing to the already full spoon.
“I shall, but only once you’ve had your fill.”
“Now, that won’t do. Can’t go and just enjoy all this myself, can I?” Harkas taunted, before leaning in and biting down gently on the spoon. At the same time, the arm that had been holding the archon crept down, finding the rim of the other bowl and lifting it over the miqo’tes’ lap, her other hand taking the spoon.
Quickly swallowing her mouthful, she smiled. “Now, your turn.” Her hands worked surprisingly deftly, quickly scooping a generous helping of stew and winding up towards the archons face. “Open up, was it?” The warrior was clearly enjoying the moment and despite the dark cloud that hung over them not two minutes ago, Y’shtola found herself smirking.
“I’m hardly in a position to refuse, am I?” There was a playful tone in Y’shtola’s voice now as her ruby lips parted, teasingly slow, until they allowed the offering to pass, sealing behind. As the spoon slid back out, she let out an appreciative groan, much to Harkas’ delight, who was now basking in the archons warm expression.
“So?” The warrior questioned. “It’s good, right?”. There was a few seconds of silence as the miqo’te savoured the stew before it was gone.
“As with seemingly all matters of culinary flavour, you’re correct. The spice blend Glynard chose brings about a fine meal.” Y’shtola nodded, before taking her turn to offer food to her partner.
“I go to a lot of places, I try a lot of food. From slum slop in Limsa Lominsa to highborn delicacies in Ishgard.” There was a slight giggle from the Roegadyn as she took her next mouthful, already returning spoon to stew.
“A Gourmand in the making, I’m sure.” The half-jest forced Harkas to stifle a laugh, exhaling through her nose before gulping.
“Nothing quite so grand. I just end up in a lot of settlements, each with their own take on common foods. Besides, with what I do, I need a lot of energy. Lots of battles to fight, lots of roads to walk.” She stated matter-of-factly, with just a hint of pride.
“T’is the life we’ve chosen.” The archon nodded sagely “We can but take solace in the comforts we find along the way, be it food or friends.” Her wise words concluded, the archon indulged in another waiting stew offering.
“And if you’re really lucky, you might find someone to share your heart with.” While not the words of a poet or a wordsmith, the warriors words still brought colour to Y’shtola’s cheeks, forcing her to swallow her food and glance up at her companion, who was slowly doing likewise, and together, they shared a moment, just staring into each others eyes before moving in for a fleeting kiss.
“Warrior of both Light and Darkness, bane of Ascians and now an effusive romantic. I doubt this is what Y’Mhitra expected when she bid me find someone.” Y’shtola mused out loud, and she quickly glanced at Harkas, who sat staring at the rising moon, either wasn’t responding or, preferably, hadn’t heard. Turning back to look out over Lakeland, the archon nestled herself into the warriors side, resting her head against the side of her chest. In response, she felt the large arm pull her in close.
“Never thought I’d be responsible for the night sky, of all things.” Her voice belied her wonderment as she beheld the pale orb that hung above the land. “Or that it could be stolen in the first place.”
“The future may oft hides fates beyond our wildest imaginations.” The miqo’te spoke, moving an arm to take a bowl once again. “Some are harder fought than others, but those are often the brightest.” She paused, thoughtfully, before chuckling softly as she took another spoonful and lifted it up. “Or darkest, in this case. Now, if you’d be so kind as to lower yourself so that I might continue.”
With a nod, Harkas released her hold on the archon, reclining until she was resting on one arm.
“This better?” the warrior spoke with a hint of smugness as Y’shtola slide herself back several fulms.
“Seeing that I can now reach without the need to crane my neck, I would surmise so.” There was a trace of satisfaction in her voice as she brought the stew to Harkas’ lips, only for it to promptly disappear.
“My height’s never been such a problem before. Guess I forgot how big the gap is” The warrior spoke, muffled by food, only to be tapped on the nose by a spoon.
“Not with your mouth full.” The archon scolded, albeit playfully. Smirking, Harkas swallowed her stew and gave the Miqo’te a long, taunting smirk.
“Yes, Mother.” Her words dripped a playful derision, and thankfully brought a smile to her companion, who responded much as she had hoped.
“Again with the cheek?” The archon took on a similar tone, if not more sultry. “Mayhaps I really do need to take you across my knee. Teach you a lesson I’m sure you’d never forget.” The miqo’te leant in slowly, driving in her point, only to be matched ilm for ilm by the Roegadyn.
“Well you’re welcome to try.”
“Far be it for me to judge what the two of you indulge in when alone.” Came a third, familiar male voice, as both scions tore apart in horrified shock, a poor attempt at hiding their closeness. “But I fear a mere spanking will do little to someone who regularly bears the brunt of powers that could easily level the very tower we stand on.” Both ladies quickly spun to their feet, Harkas nimbly grabbing her axe and bringing it to bare at the intruder, only to be greeted by their white garbed and haired comrade, who wore an annoyingly smug look. “But then you are a master of the arcane. Mayhaps you have something in your repertoire for such an occasion.”
“Thancred.” Y’shtola sighed, partially covering her face with her fingers. “How long have you been lurking there?” The rogue gave a non-committal shrug as he took a step forward.
“Long enough to hear more than any present would like, myself included. With how distracted you both were, it was decidedly simple, really.” Harkas slowly lowered her weapon, but followed the man as he moved.
“And here I had hoped you didn’t make a habit of snooping on your friends.” The annoyance in the warriors voice was palpable as she leant her axe back up against a railing.
“You wound me!” Thancred feigned a look of pain, accompanied with an overly-dramatic gesture. “You think me the kind of vagabond to eavesdrop on my friends romantic retreat for my own pleasures?”
“Precisely.” Harkas chimed in before he could continue, causing him to give a defeated sigh.
“Well I didn’t. In fact, the others will be here shortly and I thought to arrive ahead and ensure you wouldn’t be caught in a more compromising position. I rather not have Rynes ears sullied by your bedroom talk, after all.” Both women narrowed their eyes at him.
“So you believe yourself a benevolent assistant, then?” The miqo’te chided.
“You’d rather everyone had walked into that conversation of yours?” came the hyurs taunting response, forcing both to step down, begrudgingly.
“So, you knew about us as well?” Harkas asked, after a moment of silence.
“It’s almost as if my role within the Scions was intelligence and reconnaissance.” Came Thancreds’ sarcasm-steeped response. “Yes, I knew. Overheard some of the members of the Ala Mhigan resistance talking about it one night. Something about being sworn to secrecy about it.”
“And our other comrades?” The archon queried.
“Alisaie, for sure, and I’d be surprised if it had eluded Uriangers’ notice. Alphinaud however, remains as naïve as always and Ryne doesn’t seem to know, either.” Harkas and Y’shtola shared a disappointed glance before the sound of footsteps upon the tower stairs disturbed the conversation. Quickly, both Warrior and Archon gathered the few loose items in a cover-up that proved entertaining to the rogue, and less than a minute later, the tower was substantially more crowded.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding.” Alphinaud spoke, his voice warm and cheery. “When none of the revellers knew the whereabouts of their guest of honour, I began to fear you’d been whisked off to yet another shard.” Ryne nodded in agreement, before turning to face Y’shtola.
“Thankfully, Glynard had watched you leaving the party with food for two, so following the trail was easy.”
“I still remember the time when a celebration for a victory such as this came hand in hand with tales of one of the great Warriors of Light drinking even the hardiest of drunkards under the table.” Alphinaud laughed. “To find you sneaking away from a party still comes as somewhat of a surprise.”
“Come now, brother.” Alisaie chimed in, stepping in beside Harkas before she could respond. “She’s come a long way since then. I’m sure after a day such as today nobody would begrudge her some time alone, nor Y’shtola for ensuring she is looked after. After all, we’ve all neglected ourselves in favour of confronting Emet-Selch and we can’t have our ace keeling over from starvation now, can we?” her defense of the Warrior was curt and as the gathered muttered their agreements she gave Harkas a sly, knowing wink and a subtle nudge with her elbow, finding some enjoyment as the Roegadyn tried to contain her embarrassment.
“She speaketh the truth.” Urianger spoke, drawing the attention of everyone back. “This day hath been both strenuous and treacherous in no small measure.” He paused briefly, before turning and gesturing out into the distance. “But by the grace of the twelve, we have accomplished that which many had long given up on. The light eternal hath receded, the sin eaters that once plagued Norvrandt are vanquished and despite interference of an Ascian nature, we hath averted the eighth calamity.”
There was a long silence as all gathered took a moment to appreciate the night sky. The glittering stars, the gleaming moon, both things they had taken for granted in the source, save for Ryne, who stood, smiling from ear to ear. It may well have been the first full night sky she’d ever seen, Harkas thought, watching as Thancred placed a reaffirming hand on the young humes’ shoulder, momentarily drawing her attention as she gave him an exhilarated grin.
“We mustn’t forget who made this all possible.” Alphinaud was the one to break the silence, and Harkas felt a small hand press against her hip. Looking down, she saw the young Leveilleur gazing up in admiration. “Nor the price she almost paid, and for that, you have my everlasting gratitude.” Almost immediately, Harkas felt the eyes of every scion upon her, and she struggled to find her words. Swallowing her nerves, she placed a hand on the top of the small elezens head, bringing some colour to his cheeks.
“Not that I’d have gotten very far without you all.” She bore a soft, if uncertain smile as she spoke, glancing between each scion. “Bad as it sounds, I’m glad that the Exarch accidentally grabbed you all. I doubt I’d have managed this on my own. I probably wouldn’t even have made it into Eulmore without this artist.” She chuckled, much to Alphinaud chagrin.
“You’d have a harder time keeping us away.” Alisaie chirped, striking a prideful pose. “But I digress. Shall we return to the festivities? No doubt there are many who would be heartened to see their hero, and I believe there are a number of tales being told of your encounters which might need a touch of…correction.”
There was another murmur of agreement before the Scions meandered back down the watchtower stairs. As she lifted her axe and hung it back in its sheathe, Harkas gave one final look over Lakeland with a proud smile, before joining her companions.
“So, did you actually have a plan if Rynes’ blessing had failed and I had turned?” the Warrior asked as she descended.
“That we did.” Alisaie replied cheerily.
“I believe we took a page out of your book, at that.” Thancred added.
“One of mine?” Harkas tilted her head in confusion.
“As thine fellow Warriors of Light hath told, when you foray into unknown territory with little knowledge of the dangers that might await thee within, thine prevailing strategy is to “Improvise”.” Uriangers voice came from a little further down but lost none of its potency. Dumbstruck, Harkas stopped dead, glancing quickly between her companions.
“Your plan was to go in without a plan and see what happens?!” The Roegadyn was practically shouting, unable to control her volume.
“It’s served you well in all your previous endeavours.” Alphinaud added, enjoying the chance to join his fellows in teasing the warrior.
“That’s because we never use my plan!”