From the Heavens (Final Fantasy XVI)

𖥸 Additional Scene: Aftermath of the Nysa Defile 𖥸

|| Requested By ||
Ana121201

|| Information ||
As the title states, this short story takes place after the Battle of Nysa. I labeled it as an additional scene because it can be included in the main story. This story covers Clive's POV after he and Cid meet on the battlefield and return to the hideaway.

|| Plot ||
Labeled a deserter of the imperial army due to protecting Jill, Clive follows Cid to the hideaway after the events of the Battle of Nysa. There, he learns about Lyra's involvement and becomes desperate to reunite with her.

PS—I did not proofread this chapter for any grammatical/spelling errors. So sorry in advance!

••••••••••••••

|| The Hideaway ||
|| Central Storm Deadlands ||
|| Year of the Realm - 873 ||

Standing in the middle of the hideaway, Clive watched Goatz carry Jill to the infirmary at the behest of Tarja. Once they were out of sight, he looked around to see the people of the hideaway had made their home inside Fallen ruins. At Cid's suggestion, he walked around the hideaway to get his bearings.

After he was done exploring, he headed up to Cid's solar to speak to him. When he opened the door, he looked around the room and found the man sitting at his desk with a quill in hand. Entering the solar, he closed the door behind him.

Cid continued to write down information and didn't spare Clive a glance. "Just working on a pet project of mine. Though she's not above biting the hand that feeds her." Halting his scribbling, he lifted his gaze from his writings and gestured for the man to sit on the couch.

When he didn't, Cid sighed and put the quill back in the inkwell. "All right. I was hoping we might try and solve the mystery of poor Clive Rosfield... A "Bearer" of the Sanbrequois Imperial Army sent behind enemy lines—" His gaze locked with the man standing on the other side of his desk. "...with orders to wait until it turned into a brawl, then slit the Dominant's throat in the chaos."

Clive clenched his fist tightly by his side, eyes narrowed. "I didn't know it was her. How could it be?"

Cid leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. "And so to save her neck, you slit your sergeant's, then set your sights on the hills. Conveniently forgetting how the empire deals with deserters. 'Cause with that on your chop, my friend...we both know you won't be getting far." He grabbed a chalice that was sitting on his desk and stood up, snatching up a second cup in the process. Walking up to Clive, he blew the dust off the chalices. "You've fallen a long way, Lord Rosfield."

Clive took the chalice that was offered to him with a displeased sigh.

Cid sauntered over to the couch, grabbed the bottle of wine on the table beside it, and poured some into his cup. He then sat down with a small sigh and held the bottle out toward the man. "I'll not have it said that I'm a poor host."

Clive trudged over to him and held out his cup. "What do you mean to do with her?"

Pouring the wine, he was taken aback at the question. "Do with her? Why, nothing. Her life is her own now." He put the bottle down and leaned back against the couch. "If I wanted to use her, do you think I'd be talking to you? All I want to do is help. Dominants like her. Branded like you. Of course, the realm doesn't approve—which is why we live in a cave."