Final Fantasy XIV: Ashen Dawn

Spear To Staff, Dust Unto Glass

As far as Troy was concerned, hell was starting to freeze over by the seams. 

Zaeiru was a name he knew very, very well, and a name that being assumed as alive would send his blood into boiling levels of rage just by saying it. Pipin tried calming him down with his hands on his partner's shoulders, speaking softly only to be received of the Cavalry Lieutenant slowly losing his grip on his surroundings.

"No, no, no no no no NO! This can't be real! It isn't! It isn't real!"

"Troy, y-"

"KEEP HIM AWAY FROM ME!"

The Lalafell was completely beside himself, even going as far as to shove Pipin back and curl up by the tree he was under, hands grabbing at his hair and his breathing starting to get dangerously fast. If this went on any longer, he could very well pass out, but Pipin had to help him. 

Zaeiru Kazegiro. 

Why? 

Why did it have to be him?

Eniro stood beside Raubahn who gave a look of hesitant trust to his son, marching over to try and pull Troy back to reality along with him. As for the rogue, He needed to refocus; Y'shtola was waiting for him on her side of the metal platform they'd be fighting on.

The entire mission thus far was leading up to this one fight–Eniro taking the victory over Y'shtola to get himself and his allies closer to information on Black Rose. But whatever information they could gather, from the looks of it, seemed to only be just a part of a much bigger scheme that led them all the way back to Old Sharlaya. Maybe even the Far East.

And when the actual fight itself started, it was easy to notice how off his game Eniro was because of those thoughts.

He was being parried during attacks that he shouldn't have even gone for, being hit by hard spells and staff bashes that he'd easily see coming–Y'shtola was making this easy for him, even despite the fireballs and the dark beams and the magic. She knew Eniro's potential, and he wasn't going as far as he could with it thanks to the breaking down of Troy still young in his mind. Dillon was starting to see it too.

"What? Gonna let me beat you that easily, green-thumb?"

But the Miqo'te still had an act to play.

"A-as…as if. I just…"

Eniro's sentence fell through as he let out a deep exhale, crouching down and really bringing himself up to try and regain his focus. He dashed forward, being shot at by three rising pillars of fire in which he ducked and dodged through only to be faced by a spear being driven into his shoulder. The stab piereced him immediately and he winced while blood trailed from there down his arm, a dark and sinister purple emanating from its end that, if serious, could genuinely blow off his left arm in an instant. 

Thankfully, though, even while he was a little off, this was still Eniro. 

He twisted himself around so that the staff followed his body while stuck in his shoulder, grabbing onto its base and ripping the thing from Y'shtola's hands to whack her with it right in the side of the neck. After that strike did he finally pull the staff from his wound, lunging at Y'shtola and crushing the Dragoon Soul Crystal in his pocket to activate the Job and start laying into her with spear swings and stabs.

Now that she was without a weapon and growing more and more hurt by the moment, Y'shtola seemed to realize that even if Eniro won, he couldn't come out of this unscathed. This had to work. So, in retaliation, she ducked a swing of his spear and blasted her fist into his stomach, using so much force that the punch smashed him into the ground and cracked the metal floor beneath him. 

Thank goodness he had armor on, because Y'shtola was gonna get serious now, picking up her staff and casting a spell that, instead of firing a dark magic out at Eniro, absorbed it into her body–shifting her eyes to a darkened black while a purple aura wrapped around her. Eniro got up, saw the look she had, and smiled.

Game time.

The two clashed spear to staff, getting further and further away from the realm of a proper sanction and getting aggressive to the point where it was unnecessary. Everyone watching winced all at once when Eniro vaulted over a ball of dark magic, using his left hand to springboard himself forward and come down with a headbutt to Y'shtola's skull. She staggered back and coughed up blood onto her forearm, only narrowly dodging a coming slash that gave her an opening to cast another pillar of fire from underneath him. The boy was shot back and burned severely, practically spinning in the air and landing on his chest before he forced himself back up to his feet. They just kept going.

Cyprus looked on from the comfort of the hill, grabbing at the fabric on his arm while his eye twitched uncomfortably. Only Stryker and Yda had crossed this line into a full-blown fight, and their match had to be stopped before it could even properly finish. Now? He was sure one of these two would drop dead if they didn't stop the fight early, but that wasn't what held his entire attention. Hell, even Fei was thrown off, and he was only here for Cyprus.

Krile was leaving. 

She just…got up and walked off to go do…something. Wherever the hell she was going, it was so abrupt that Cyprus almost had a mind to follow her. Alas, G'raha Tia took that liberty in chasing down the woman, leaving the Au Ra to continue viewing the fight below him. 

Thankfully the fight ended right then and there, Y'shtola casting wind and water to the point of dispensing herself of any energy she had left while Eniro weaved through it all for a lucky stab to the leg. One last blast of fire caught him in the gut, and though injured, he was able to stay standing while the Black Mage before him fell to a knee, looking across from herself to meet the end of a spear.

Eniro's flag was raised, and he won. All according to plan. Dillon clapped his hands in celebration, cheering on the boy while he dismissed himself as none the wiser.

Something was up. He could see it in that entire fight.

What the hell was Eniro not telling him?

And why did he have a hunch that he hadn't been telling him something this whole time?

Just a few more fights. That was it. A few more fights, and both sides of the coin would get their truth.

But now, there was a new page to be turned on this chapter–one that could send the entire Alliance into a conflict that they wouldn't be privy to otherwise had it not been for the gleamer who gave them the tip off on it.

Funny, Dillon thought. It was funny how he could just feel Old Sharlaya and its Forum crumbling through nothing but his words alone.