The Far Edge of Fate (Final Fantasy XV)

CHAPTER 3 - BRAVE LITTLE SPARK

Chapter title comes from the lyrics of 'Flow' from the Final Fantasy XIV: Endwalker OST

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"Kailiani, you're on cleanup tonight."

"Yes, sir."

Aaralyn ignored the sympathetic look Pelna was shooting at her as Drautos motioned to Autumn and started heading for the door. Autumn followed meekly behind him, her head down and looking ragged from the strict drills Luche had run her through earlier.

Luckily, the mess wasn't too bad tonight. Most of the Glaives had been deployed earlier that week to the borders. Not to fight, or anything, just hold the line as the Empire had been setting up shop there, looking for another chance to invade most likely. The only ones there were still around were Luche (who had been ordered to continue training Autumn), Pelna, Axis, Aaralyn, and a few others. So that meant only a few scattered weapons to pick up, the sanitization, and (thank the Six) no warp vomit to clean up.

"See ya tomorrow, kiddo!" Pelna called, standing by the doorway, gym bag in hand.

Aaralyn waved at him, stooping to pick up a sword. The blade shone dully in the evening light filtering in through the fencing above her.

Before long, the room cleared out, leaving Aaralyn on her own. Idly, she hoped Axis hadn't forgotten to leave the keys where they were supposed to go again as she cleaned. He had been prone to doing that recently. Luche had chewed him out something fierce for that yesterday.

Aaralyn stooped, hand closing in around the handle of a dulled greatsword. She grunted as she lifted it, the metal heavy and almost immediately she lost her grip on it. It toppled from her hand, the blade primed to smash right into her foot.

"Hey, whoa, careful!"

Before the sword could fall it was caught by the hilt. Aaralyn looked up in surprise to see who'd had the forethought to help her only to see Noctis standing in front of her. He lifted the greatsword with ease, glancing back at her with an odd mixture of concern and relief.

"Oh," Aaralyn said, blinking. "Hey."

"Hey yourself," Noctis said, raising an eyebrow. "You always go around dropping heavy swords?"

"Only on Tuesdays," Aaralyn snarked.

Noctis made a show of rolling his eyes, taking the handle of the heavy sword and hefting it over his shoulder like it weighed nothing. Aaralyn had to consciously remind herself not to ogle at the obvious show of strength. Was he just trying to show off?

"I didn't know you got checked out of the hospital," Noctis supplied for conversation, awkwardly following her around with the greatsword as she ducked around him to continue her task.

"Yeah, just the other day," Aaralyn said. She stooped to pick up a few knives that Pelna had forgotten to put away and twisted them around in her hands. "You never came to visit."

Aaralyn didn't fault him for that—not at all. The life of a prince bound by duty had to be busier than she could ever fathom. But...she would have appreciated his company. There was something about Noctis that made him easier to talk to than most people, sans Cassielle, of course. She was a given.

"Yeah," Noctis said, sounding somewhat ashamed. He grunted as he hefted the greatsword again to plop on the rack with the others as Aaralyn began organizing the knives she'd collected on one of the shelves. "I uh...got caught up with a lot. By the time I finally spotted an escape from Ignis—my advisor—the hospital said that you'd been released a couple of days ago. So I figured you were probably here training because Drautos is a hardass and so...here I am. I'm...I'm sorry about that." He said the apology so genuinely that Aaralyn couldn't help but be surprised. She got the inclination that the prince didn't apologize often, but when he did, he meant it.