Other Chronicle: Character Shorts

Other Chronicle: Black Ishgard

The following is from the POV of Eniro Niro, taking place during the 3 month timeskip in between Season 3 and Season 4.

God dammit.

Why'd it have to be now? Of all fuckin' times, why now?

Ishagrd's been colder than usual when it comes to the looks I'm given when I walk in. There are people carrying weapons on 'em that purposefully try to steer clear of me, even knowing as well as the guy who runs it that I'm an innocent man.

Though, a part of me knows that it's deserved, after everything that I've done.

No motive or reason can bring back the people I've taken away. It can't clear my kill count or restore broken families–It doesn't matter why or how or whatever. But now look at me. A Scion of the Seventh Dawn, striding down some path of greatness when my only real talent is fighting and killing. It reads itself like a joke. I don't know what the fuck Minfilia was thinking. I don't deserve any of this.

But now I'm in too deep. All because some random Au Ra came into a bar one day and knew what the tattoo on my wrist meant. The mainland's treating me like I'm some kind of hero when they spent two years trying to put my head on a stick. It feels like pity more than acceptance.

Whatever. I'm not here to feel bad for myself for an hour and then disappear again. Dillon wanted to talk to me, knowing everything that's happened since I got my name cleared and wanting to check in. I'm in a much better place than I was before, don't get me wrong, but anyone can still stumble no matter how smooth the road is. What matters is getting back up, and now, sitting on top of this building in the Pillars, alone, I was able to think about what helped me do that.

It was Dillon.

He got me to stop killing for scraps.

He reinstated that hope I had lost of finding another way.

Dillon believed me when I told him what the Sister's did. He, unlike anybody else, believed me. And he became my lifeline.

Those were simpler times.

But that's in the past now. What matters most is making sure that I'm on my own path, and that he's on his. I don't want to screw anything up that he has going on for him. And knowing him, he always has something going on. I really don't know how he does it. That being said, here he comes carrying a…a dress. A blue and black dress that, when he noticed I saw it, tossed to me and chuckled.

"Couldn't let you come and go from Ishgard without a memento, yeah?"

"I get it, Dill. It was one time, but I nailed it. Doesn't mean I'm gonna put it on here."

Coronation ceremony. I put the dress on to blend in cause Dillon went without telling me. And on that note, I did nail it.

"Ya' act like I showed up just to see you wear a dress. I did actually want t' check on ya'."

"Well, I'm here, aren't I? I can't stay for long cause, well, I don't have to explain that to you. Feels like a bunch of ghosts are watchin' me, just…waiting to haunt me. Or something."

I wasn't gonna look at Dillon with myself in such a sorry state; I had already spent a good deal of time wallowing in my situation, and I always knew the guy as someone who acted and thought simultaneously. I had to look away. But I wasn't gonna stop talking to him.

"It just sucks, man. I can't take it all back, and they know it. What am I supposed to do?"

"Are you givin' up?"

"N-no, never!"

He knew that asking me something like that would offend me. It's what he wanted–a chance to look me in the eyes and tell me what he felt knowing how I felt. As soon as I realized that, he was right in front of me, grinning that same grin that got me to realize that he'd actually stick around when I first met him. His smile brought me back.