The Far Edge of Fate (Final Fantasy XV)

CHAPTER 11 - THE WAITING GAME

Cassielle was finding it increasingly hard to breathe.

She sat in a hotel room in the Leville, staring at her phone in her hand and silently begging it to ring, buzz, fucking anything.

But she was given nothing but silence.

Out of obsessive habit, she unlocked the phone again to check the last text Aaralyn had sent her. May 14th—two days before the treaty signing. She'd been complaining about her patrol and had gone radio silent since then and Cassielle had just assumed she was busy but now...

Gods, now she was kicking herself for not trying to check in sooner.

She had to almost physically resist the urge to call Aaralyn again. She already knew that it would go straight to voicemail—like it had the past twenty times she'd called—but part of her desperately, foolishly hoped that this was the call that Aaralyn would answer. But she knew that that was little more than a pipe dream at the moment. She'd seen first-hand the carnage in the city. Had scrambled away as the buildings by her apartment complex with her father had gone up in flames. Had stumbled as the building crumbled, caught in the crossfire of the fight between daemons and Olden Kings. She'd turned to see her dad, who was there one moment and then gone the next. Crushed beneath debris.

Her heart ached at the reminder of her father, who'd done nothing but provide warmth and love up until the very end. Even after her mother had walked out on them, he'd been nothing but a consistent, stable presence.

And now his brain matter was splattered against some nondescript wall in Insomnia.

Cassielle threw her head back, blinking hard to chase away tears.

She'd already lost her dad. She didn't want to lose her best friend too.

She called again. The dial tone rang, over and over and over again until there was a click and Aaralyn's voice reminded her to leave a message followed by a beep. Cassielle exhaled slowly. She'd lost track of how many voicemails she'd left, even though she knew it was futile. Voicemails would not make Aaralyn pick up faster, especially if calls and texts were going ignored. Where on Eos was she? Was she still in the city or had she escaped along with countless refugees? And, more importantly...

Was she okay?

The door creaked open on the opposite side of the room. Cassielle looked up to watch Iris and Autumn enter. Gladiolus's younger sister was picking at a bandage she had wrapped around her arm, her expression haunted and grim. Autumn's was much the same way and Cassielle could wager a guess that her own mirrored theirs. There was no way they could see the destruction of the Crown City the way they had and walk out without a bit of mental scarring.

"We found her family," Autumn said as Iris sat down in an armchair.

Cassielle sat up abruptly. "Are they okay?!"

"They're fine," Autumn said reassuringly. "Shaken up, but otherwise unharmed."

"Have they...?" Cassielle scarcely let herself hope.

"No. They haven't heard from her either," Autumn shook her head solemnly. "The last time they saw her was the morning of the ceremony. She was on some kind of guard duty for the contingent and...they haven't seen or heard from her since."

Cassielle slumped back in her seat. If Aaralyn's own family hadn't heard from her, there was no way in hell something hadn't happened. Cassielle tried not to think of the worst—Aaralyn was tenacious and had survived more than one close call. It would take a lot more than a crumbling city to take her down.

...right?

Cassielle put her head in her hands.

"On the bright side, Gladdy and the others are only about an hour out from Lestallum," Iris said gently. "We can figure out what to do once they get here."