The Far Edge of Fate (Final Fantasy XV)

CHAPTER 13 - IN THE AFTERMATH

i binged all of stranger things season 4 in a day and it fucking obliterated me

enjoy!

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Aaralyn woke up sore. Her whole body ached like she'd run a marathon, but, at the very least, she was doing better than she had been for the past like, week. The pain had diminished significantly, and she knew that was, in no small part, thanks to Cassielle's medical expertise.

Quietly, Aaralyn braced a hand beneath her to sit up. Her thigh twinged but the pain was muted and manageable, rather than unbearable like it had been before. She swallowed back her sigh of relief and took a glance around her surroundings.

She didn't remember much after they'd encountered Ravus in that stupid Imperial base. All she was really aware of was leaning against Nyx's sturdy shoulder, safe in the confidence that they were both alive and getting out of those hellish cells, and closing her eyes. She must have fallen asleep, but she had no idea for how long.

Carefully, she kicked the blankets off of her legs with her remaining good one and gingerly stood. At the very least, she recognized the tent she was in. It was the same ones that all Kingsglaive recruits were given for overnight missions or to set up behind the lines of battle. Nyx must have pulled his out and set it up for her.

That was nice of him, Aaralyn thought and looked down at her front. She was still wearing her bloodied and tattered uniform. Hesitantly, she looked down at her palm, uncurling her fist in her lap. Tredd's blood, however scrubbed off it was, still remained on her skin.

It was like getting punched.

Hot tears immediately sprung into Aaralyn's eyes as she fought the urge to cry. This was all that was left of him—of her brother, her comrade, her friend—who'd used his last moments to sacrifice himself for her. And it wasn't just him either, it was Crowe and Pelna and Axis and Sonitus and hell, even Luche, who'd always been an asshole, but gods if he still hadn't been a part of the family.

Aaralyn tucked her hands into her sides and curled in on herself.

I need to get up, she thought, and when she didn't make a move to get up, she started to realize it was a lost cause. Instead, she curled into a painful ball and tried desperately not to cry.

Finally, when the grief had alleviated enough for Aaralyn to lift her head, she braced her hand beneath her to heft herself to her feet. Awkwardly, she clambered up, doing her best to keep pressure off of her bad leg, using what she could for support. When she was standing, she limped her way over to the mouth of the tent to find it unzipped. Carefully, she pushed it open to stumble out of the tent.

The sun was sinking low on the horizon, framing the haven in a nice orange glow. Her friends were all assembled in camp chairs by an empty fireplace with the exception of Ignis, who was cooking something at his little table and portable stove. They all turned to look at her as she stepped gingerly out of the tent.

Noctis immediately shifted from where he sat on the ground to stand, but Nyx was a little faster than he was. He stepped over the campfire pit to meet her, carefully grabbing her arm to help keep her weight off of her still throbbing leg.

"Hey, kiddo," Nyx eased her down into the chair he'd just been occupying. He hovered for a moment, adjusting himself so he was in the center of her view with both hands gently on her wrists. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was blown up," Aaralyn said with no small amount of sarcasm. Her voice felt rough from disuse.

The corner of Nyx's mouth twitched as he moved aside. "Sass is intact. That's a good sign."